Darkstalkers The Series: Season One
by Louis the Rogue
Summary: The Darkstalkers are discovering each other in the world of men, but as they do, higher agendas related to far more powerful forces of darkness are being set in motion.
1. Episode 1: Man's Ancestral Enemy

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE ONE: MAN'S ANCESTRAL ENEMY  
  
Jacob let out as mighty a shout as he could with his little lungs to put his enemy on guard, just as Sensei had always taught him. The boy was no taller than three foot-two with short, hay blonde hair, steel blue eyes, and fair skin. His training gi was upset by the overly large spectacle he wore on his disproportionately large head. He was a frail boy of nine years, but he had somehow talked martial arts world champion Jon Talbain into training him at his private estate.  
  
And speaking of the Sensei, he was watching as Jacob and another boy, the larger Mark, circled on the mat and prepared for battle. Talbain was a middle-aged man with long, thick, gracefully silver hair and healthily colored skin. His dark blue eyes always seemed to have a discerning look to them, as if he was watching for something in everything. He was dressed in his usual deep violet training gi and wearing a deep red belt around his waist.  
  
Normally, it was madness to pit a little guy like Jacob against an opponent that was not only larger, but also tougher in build. However, the Master had a keen eye for talent, and there was something different about this boy. His lupine senses never failed him.  
  
Mark sprang into action, flipping in midair, and coming down with a massive forward elbow assault. It looked like it should have been over before it began. Jacob cried out in terror. Mark fell onto the ground at the other end of the blow, and his elbow had been fractured. The older boy lay there helplessly, trying not to scream in pain.  
  
Several of the other students gathered around Mark. One of them looked over at Jacob accusingly, "What did you do to him kid?"  
  
Jacob was so stunned he was stuttering, "I, I don't know!"  
  
Talbain stood up, "That will be enough. Joshua, I want you to take Mark and get his arm in a cast. Jacob, I want you to come with me."  
  
Jacob lowered his head, knowing he had done it now, "Yes Sensei."  
  
Talbain took Jacob behind the dojo area. They walked into the woods on the estate a little bit where they could be alone before they finally stopped by a bridge.  
  
Talbain turned to look at his student, the evening sun glinting off his face as he spoke, "Jacob, do you know what you did back there?"  
  
Jacob was flushing with shame, "No Sensei, I am sorry."  
  
Talbain put a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to listen to what I have to say because these may be the most important words you will ever hear. You were born different. You are not disabled: you are special and unique, especially by the standards of a warrior."  
  
Jacob looked up, squinting through his spectacles, "I do not understand Sir."  
  
Talbain looked up at the sun, "Promise me you will not share with anyone what I am about to reveal to you. I am different too."  
  
Jacob looked determined, "I promise Sensei. Please make me understand."  
  
Talbain closed his eyes, "Good." His muscles began to tense and spasm with the force of what was about to come over him. He felt his hands grip at the hairs on his head, which were turning a shade of gray blue. His body began to contort into an odd shape: the shape of a creature which is neither man nor wolf, but both. As his body changed in structure, hair sprouted all over. Blue and white hair. His shirt tore from the strain of the muscles bulging under it as his pant legs inched up to his knees, which now bent backwards. The horrifying truth was made clear as an eerie howl escaped the Master's lips. Sensei Talbain was, without a doubt, a werewolf.  
  
Talbain looked down at Jacob, slowly placing a clawed cross between a white furry paw and a hand over his snout so he didn't look so scary, "Please don't be afraid."  
  
Jacob only smiled, "I still see you in there, Sensei. Why do you hide your real self?"  
  
Talbain looked askance, "Because to show my true form in public would make me an exile in this world of men. Creatures like me are not welcome here, or anywhere on this world really. I showed you this because it has become obvious to me that you too are of the strange heritage that gives you supernatural powers. You must learn to accept who and what you are, and you must learn how to safely interact with the world around you. I do not want you to suffer through the tragedies I have experienced as a result of not being able to control my own inner self."  
  
Jacob nodded firmly, and reached up, lowering the paw from Talbain's face and holding it in his own little hand, "I don't think you're that scary Sensei: you look pretty cool to me."  
  
Talbain grinned a bit, "Go on back to the dojo. Tell the others you got a lucky break with Mark and I'll catch up to you as soon as I'm fit to be seen again."  
  
~  
  
The wooden dojo was completely silent. Mark had been sent home with his injury for the day and none of the other students would go near Jacob. He sat alone in a corner, quietly reading a book.  
  
About that time, the door to the establishment busted open. Three strong looking men in flannel shirts, jeans, and big boots toting rifles made their way in.  
  
One of them looked to another, "Pour it!"  
  
The man addressed took out a can of gasoline and began pouring it in front of the door. The children were too scared to move. Another man took out a match, lit it, and the three of them were out of the building. They threw several logs they had brought in a truck in front of the doorway to bar it shut so there would be no escape and ran.  
  
Talbain looked up when he heard an explosion. He had just finished meditating enough to assume a human form again, but now he ran with the speed of the wolf towards the source of it: his dojo on the hill.  
  
As he caught sight of the billowing fire all around the dojo, his immediate instincts were to ensure the safety of his 'pack'. He hurled his muscular body through one of the walls, but he was too late. The charred remains of the students, many of whom had tried unsuccessfully to escape the mass murder, lingered where they lay.  
  
Talbain became overcome with shock, "Who? Who could do such a thing to children! They were just children!" He lost his concentration as the rage overtook him. He was transforming again, but this time not by choice. The beast was back, and he wanted answers.  
  
~  
  
Officer Tasha Makabaya was off-duty, but that didn't stop her from taking the work home. Since she had been transferred to the heart- wrenching job of locating missing children, the auburn-haired twenty- something had been burying herself in her work. She had a burning desire to help children, and that's exactly what a certain visitor was looking for.  
  
There was a loud scratching at the window. Tasha approached, gun in hand: in this neighborhood you could never be sure what was waiting outside your door. She almost freaked when she saw a lupine shape outside the window, that is, until it demanded entry in a familiar voice.  
  
"Johnny, you jackass", she glared, "You almost gave me a heart attack." She unlatched and lifted the window for him.  
  
No sooner had she stepped aside than he leapt through, "I'm a wolf actually."  
  
Tasha crossed her arms over her busty torso, "Should I make you some coffee?"  
  
Talbain grinned, "You always did look good in uniform."  
  
~  
  
The two of them sat across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping on coffee. Well, actually Tasha was sipping: Talbain had to lap it up but we won't get into the logistics of how a wolf man drinks his coffee.  
  
"You're pretty gutsy, coming into the city like that", the officer said bluntly.  
  
"It couldn't be helped", Talbain said, finishing his coffee, "This time I didn't choose to do it. I was just that mad over what happened tonight and I lost my head."  
  
Tasha's amused grin became a look of concern, "You didn't kill anyone did you?"  
  
Talbain winced, "No, I didn't. But someone did, and it was close to home."  
  
"How close?"  
  
"Too close", Talbain glared up at her over his cup. He reached up with his clawed hand and gave her a list, "This has all the victim's names on it. Most of them weren't even ten."  
  
Tasha twitched in her seat, "That's horrible. Who did this?"  
  
Talbain closed his eyes, trying not to let himself appear weak, "I'm hoping you can find out. Please. They were my students, all of them. I can't let this go unavenged. I need to go."  
  
The wolf-like warrior leapt around the corner and out a window again, dashing off into the night. Tasha called after him, "Leave the heroics to the police, god damnit!"  
  
~  
  
Deep within a castle in Romania known as Zeitzereich, the demon nobleman Demitri Maximoff sat upon his throne in intense thought. Demitri was a younger looking man with fine features, dark eyes, and spiky brown hair. His entire build, clothing, and mannerism served to establish him as a mighty Lord of the Night.  
  
"Someday soon", he thought to himself, "Belial will know what it is to truly suffer. The way I did all those years ago. My humiliation will not go without restitution. I was weak when they banded together to destroy me, but that was a century ago. I am stronger now, and I will have my revenge."  
  
A laugh rang from the halls of Zeitzereich as the clouds of darkness loomed overhead.  
  
~  
  
Tasha was a wreck. She had been handing out the bad news to every family all day long. None of them took it well, but how could they? She knew that if it had been her child, she would have been just as angry as Jon. She thought of him leaping out into the night in a blind rage and a sick feeling of worry came over her. What would he leave in the wake of his grief?  
  
As she was heading back to her patrol car from the last house, someone jumped in front of the car. She jumped back, raising her gun, and then blinking in surprise, "Jon?"  
  
Jon's clothes were ripped and his fur was mangy. He looked out of breath and he stunk with ale. He looked up at her, "I think I know who did it."  
  
~  
  
The patrol car pulled up in front of the Ewing's home. Mark Ewing's father was a big game hunter and a known supporter of the Darkhunters of Claysburg Village, a band of would-be redneck darkstalker hunters who were far more trouble than they were worth. Given Mark's injuries yesterday, he was the most likely suspect in the entire area.  
  
Talbain had managed to assume a human form again, though just barely, and Tasha had cleaned up his wounds from fighting in bars all night as well as giving him a change of clothes. He currently had his hair pulled back and was sporting a light blue button-up shirt with tiny vertical stripes of a slightly different color, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes.  
  
Tasha looked at him sternly, "It was great that you gave me a lead, but now I want you to promise me you'll stay back here by the stoop and not cause any more trouble."  
  
That said, she walked up the porch and knocked on the door. It was a minute before a large man in blue suspenders answered, "Yeah?"  
  
Tasha held up her badge, "I'm Officer Makabaya with the Missing Children's Division of the Claysburg County Police."  
  
"No missing kids here. My Mark is home safe and sound. Damn lucky too, after he was attacked by a dark one yesterday", the man replied gruffly.  
  
Tasha nodded, "Are you aware that the establishment where your son was injured was burned down, killing twelve of his fellow students, only one hour afterwards?"  
  
The man glared, "Where is this going Officer?"  
  
Tasha's stare was as impartial as she could make it, "You have two options sir: either you let me come in and have a look around, or I'll get a search warrant from the judge based on the grounds of withholding possible evidence on the case and come back to see you in a week."  
  
The man was silent for a minute, then stepped aside, "Come on in."  
  
Tasha walked past him, entering the building. She had a look around the main rooms of that level of the house and then, upon noticing no stairs going up, looked back at him, "You got a basement in this house?"  
  
The man wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, "Yeah: door's in the kitchen."  
  
Tasha nodded, finding the door and opening it. She didn't notice Mr. Ewing creeping up behind her with a crowbar. There was a loud smack, and her unconscious body flew through the doorway, crashing at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
Mr. Ewing panted, still wiping the sweat from his forehead.  
  
"And you call us cowards", a low growl sounded. Ewing turned around to stare straight into the eyes of an angry werewolf. He had no time to react: not even time to scream as two white-furred claws snatched him up by his suspenders and slammed him hard enough against the tiled wall to make an indent on it.  
  
Talbain's eyes met his again, those lupine orbs filled with rage, "Why did you do it. They were children you creep. I wish you knew what I'd like to do to you. You DESERVE to be scared, just like those kids were scared before you killed them!"  
  
Ewing gagged, "Go ahead darkstalker! Do it! You scum."  
  
Talbain wanted to. He wanted to make this guy, who was the TRUE monster out of the two of them, suffer like he'd never suffered in his life, but he just couldn't do it. It wasn't what he was all about. He tossed the worm of a man hard into a mirror, the loss of blood from the cuts that made knocking Ewing out, and then bounded down the stairs to get Tasha out of this place.  
  
~  
  
Talbain was a man again, and right now that man was helping a certain police officer bandage her forehead. He shook his head, "You're lucky that didn't break your skull."  
  
Tasha looked up at him and grinned, "You know me. Thickest skull on the force."  
  
Talbain looked down at his hands, "Are they really worth killing over?"  
  
Tasha put a hand on his shoulder, "There will always be haters, but what you do is done out of love. Don't ever let them take away whatever it is that makes you Jon Talbain."  
  
Talbain nodded slowly, "I guess I need to get to know myself a little better."  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	2. Episode 2: Rivals In Darkness

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE TWO: RIVALS IN DARKNESS  
  
Demitri sat gazing upon his own reflection. He ran his face across his strong, square jaw and up his well-chiseled cheek. His light blue eyes, surrounded by the darkness of his soul, seemed dissatisfied with his physical shell.  
  
"Vanity has a price, Lord Maximoff", a sultry woman's voice called from behind him in the darkness. Maximoff spun around to stare down a tall, athletically built woman whose voluptuous curves could make any straight man weak in the knees, and possible incite jealousy in the not-so- straight ones. From her long, sparkling, mint-green hair to her azure eyes to her perfect breasts to her runner's legs, she was a sight to behold.  
  
As if the body itself was not enough to warm up a room, her dress was no less than questionable as far as her intentions were concerned. It seemed to mesh the feathery shoulder straps of a noblewoman with the leather armor of a fighter, but the codpiece was cut so low down her chest that her abs were visible. Her arms and legs sported tight pink spandex which was obviously meant to be a flashy battle suit, and at her hips were two black and violet demon wings, which to the uninitiated resemble bat wings.  
  
At first the vampiric noble was taken aback by her sheer magnificence, but he quickly regained his composure, and his trademark scowl, "And who in Makai are you?"  
  
The woman, a succubus or sex demon, threw her straight locked behind her ears and gave him a radiant smile, "Most call me Mistress, but for you, Morrigan Aensland."  
  
Demitri placed his hands upon his hips and let out a hardy laugh, "Well this IS a surprise! A representative fighter from my ancestral rivals has come to challenge me for the title of Ruler of the Night. Am I mistaken?"  
  
"Actually", Morrigan mused, "I wanted to talk."  
  
"Talk?" Demitri blinked, well on guard.  
  
~  
  
Talbain was dressed in a pair of deep blue jeans, brown leather cowboy boots, and a white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket sporting beige cotton undersides places over that. His hair was pulled back except for the bangs, which were spiky like he preferred them. In his arms he was bearing a bouquet of roses.  
  
He walked down the sidewalk, trying not to cough on the foul city air, which even now clogged his sensitive nose, and made his way up the metal staircase to the second floor of a brick apartment building where he hoped to meet an old friend.  
  
He practically tapped the knocker against the door compared to the force he was used to putting into everything he did and waited patiently.  
  
"I'll be there in a second", a young woman's voice called from somewhere inside. Talbain smiled: she had probably just gotten up at the sound of the knock. Catwomen tended to sleep a lot during the day and party all night.  
  
Finally, the door opened and a twenty-something beauty with tanned Caucasian skin, teal eyes, and long, bright blue hair that was currently all over the place stood there yawning quietly. An interesting note about this woman was that, while she was reading a pink bathrobe around herself, she could not hide the fact that she had cat-like paws for hands, and in place of human ears she had two cat ears atop her head. In addition to that, a white tail could be seen waving independently behind her.  
  
At first she hadn't quite got it all together yet, but when her eyes adjusted to the light so she could see who her visitor was, she smiled brightly, showing her kitty fangs, and embraced him, "Hi Jon! How ARE you???" She looked at the roses he was holding in his hand and snatched them, "For me? Oh! You shouldn't have! Come in!"  
  
Talbain made an almost pup-like yelp as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them with her dancers' legs.  
  
~  
  
Talbain stretched, making himself comfortable on Felicia's fluffy, satin-colored couch. It would have been completely out of place if Felicia didn't have a habit of taking fancy looking things and putting them in a not-so fancy apartment.  
  
Felicia walked in with a bowl of popcorn and plopped down into a sitting position, "So, what brings you all the way from the country?"  
  
Talbain smiled a bit, his eyes unable to hide the pain in his heart, "I just needed to get away for awhile I guess after what happened."  
  
Felicia looked concerned, but that didn't seem to stop her from eating, "I read about what happened Jon. That was horrible: I'm so sorry for you, and those poor kids."  
  
Jon winced a bit: he didn't like to think about it and his eyes darted around the room looking for a chance to change the subject. He found it in the papers on her desk, "So, you've been writing again I see."  
  
Felicia nodded vigorously, "Uh huh! I'm real close to being able to put out a second album. I want to show everyone I'm not a one-hit wonder."  
  
Talbain looked to her with that knowing gaze and turned his mouth up in a smile, "It doesn't matter what the critics think. You know you're great and your voice should be the loudest one in your head."  
  
Felicia gave him a genuine golden child smile: not one of those superficial ones like she found herself having to do during autograph sessions. Things had taken a turn for the better in her life when she did a sonic attack with her voice during that bizarre Darkstalkers Tournament and ended up signing a record deal, at least, in most ways. In others it was a major constraint on her personal life and a whole new kind of stress.  
  
She looked over at Jon, who was looking over her papers. Thank God for friends like him, she thought. Friends who would never lie to her but always saw the good in whatever she did. Friends who knew her.  
  
~  
  
Demitri slowly circled around Morrigan, who seemed willing to stand there, perfectly postured as a manikin, and be admired like the goddess she was. His intentions may have been erotic as well as militant, but he would never admit that.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he stopped, "What have you come to tell me woman?"  
  
Morrigan smiled, closing her eyes, "I guess I just wanted to get a first look at the legendary Demitri Maximoff. After all," her eyes opened, "I hear of your imminent return to the Demon World."  
  
Demitri's blood red lips turned upward in a sneer as he turned around, a strong wind whipping around him that became as a flaming yellow aura, blowing his cape in the air around like a kite, "My revenge will be GLORIOUS!"  
  
The arrogant noble was stunned as a sudden sweep kick knocked him off his high horse, not to mention onto his back. Morrigan placed a black- heeled foot upon his chest and leaned her head over her knee, smiling with deadly beauty, "A mighty man you are, but it will take much more than a good bluff to defeat Belial I hope you know."  
  
Demitri was enraged, "How dare you deceive me!" His large, strong hands grabbed her by her heel, and the large, strong arms they were connected to swung her in a hard throw onto her face. He stood, brushed himself off, and chuckled, "Two can play at the leverage game, now get up. It is time for battle."  
  
~  
  
"Yeah, that was a great show", Felicia laughed as she and Talbain looked over the pictures of her tour, "I'm not sure what that cowboy thought he was grabbing when he went for my hiney, but I bet the tail was more than he bargained for."  
  
Talbain leaned an arm against the arm of the chair. Felicia noted how his muscles showed through the white cotton of the t-shirt, and she couldn't help smiling a bit at that. She had always felt something for Jon, but she didn't want to let him in on that for fear he might not return it, or worse, that he might and it would ruin the friendship.  
  
She slowly stood up, a bit nervous as she wondered if he had seen her staring at him like that, "You hungry? I'm gonna get some more popcorn ok?"  
  
Talbain looked to her face and nodded as she went into the other room. Only when she was out of sight did he look back down at her pictures.  
  
~  
  
Morrigan sprang into the air, turning the jump into a backflip that made it impossible for the pursuing Demitri to grab her in mid-air, as her wings became eight individual spiked chains that knocked him even further from her.  
  
Demitri landed in a kneel, his flame aura flaring with the intense heat of his rage. He pulled a hand back, making a slight chant under his breath, and a bizarre ball of fire resembling a screaming face fired forth from his hand like a magic missile at Morrigan. This technique, the signature move of the Maximoff Family, was the Chaos Flare.  
  
Morrigan crossed her arms in front of her chest, blocking her heart as the blast impacted her, forcing her spiked chains to reform as demon wings at her side. When the smoke had cleared, she opened her mouth, letting a bit of smoke escape. Her body had slight patches of dirt all over from the gray aftermath, but she was otherwise unharmed.  
  
Her eyes narrowed down at Maximoff: arrogance she could tolerate, but lack of respect for fashion was an insult. She crossed her hands at the wrists, raising her arms above her head. A bright flash of light began to emit from her palms, forming a ball, which split into two circling 'bats' of light.  
  
She fired the attack, her own signature family technique, right back at Demitri. It slammed his directly in the face before he could recognize it.  
  
"Soul Fist", he muttered, "How predictable."  
  
In his prideful mockery he failed to notice that the Soul Fist was only a decoy. Morrigan appeared in front of him at a diagonally downward facing slant, arm out in front of her as a look of anger crossed her face.  
  
Demitri was batted across the floor and into the nearest wall. Needless to say, he was feeling the blow, but mostly as a blow to his pride. He started to get up, but as his eyes winced open, he saw that he was alone, and fell onto his back with a groan.  
  
~  
  
High in the skies above the Earth, over the clouds, a certain succubus was flying homeward on her wings of steel, a smile upon her face. She looked back towards Castle Zeitzereich, "Until next time, Demitri Maximoff." 


	3. Episode 3: The Ressurrection of Anakaris...

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE THREE: THE RESSURECTION OF ANAKARIS-RA / PT. I  
  
Talbain and Felicia were taking a stroll down the busy streets of the city, side by side, window-shopping in the town square. After Jon had decided to move to the city, Felicia had insisted on buying him some new clothes to bring out his bad boy persona. Of course, Talbain's only comprehension of how clothes marked a person's standing was through uniforms, and he displayed his high-ranking fighter belt with pride.  
  
They had been shopping all day, and the werewolf martial artist was quickly realizing how Felicia got those legs in shape: she was ALWAYS on the go! So far Talbain was dressed up in faded blue jeans, a black muscle shirt, and a sleeveless blue denim vest. He had insisted on keeping the leather boots he had made himself, and Felicia agreed they made him look more rugged.  
  
As for Felicia, she was no slouch in the fashion department. She had managed to put together an outfit that, while country enough to help her friend feel welcome, was city enough to introduce him to 'flashy girls'. It was a hot pink vest with the button pockets over the chest and a zipper down the low-cut middle. It only came down to her mid-drift. She was also dressed in a pair of cut off blue jean shorts that fringed at the bottoms. While she purposely wore nothing on her hands and feet as per usual, she had her hair up in a once-back, high-parted bun with two strands of hair coming over her shoulders. Talbain had to admit she did look flashy.  
  
The two of them felt a sudden shaking in the ground as they turned a corner. Then the sound and vibrations of deep rumbling from far beneath. Felicia's eyes darted around cautiously as she prepared to spring out of the way of any possible obstacle. Jon, on the other hand, was in a traditional stance for his school, ready for anything.  
  
As the people on the street began to run and scream at the sudden deep cracks forming in the pavement, Jon's looked to Felicia, "Earthquakes common here?"  
  
Felicia shook her head, "No way! There isn't even a fault here!"  
  
Now Talbain knew something was up. His fears were realized when, in the middle of the city, a huge structure could be seen rising above the tall buildings. Haloed in an aura of dust from whatever countless buildings it had just destroyed, a massive golden pyramid shone brightly in the sun: a new landmark for the city.  
  
Felicia would have fallen as a crack in the ground went under her, but her tail caught the ground and balanced her out. She looked up at the pyramid, eyes widened with mingled horror and curiosity, "Is that what I think it is???"  
  
Talbain nodded gravely, "That's exactly what it is, and I don't like the energy that it's giving off. Somebody's gotta do something." And with his bold words declared, Talbain jumped onto all fours and ran at two- thirds the speed of a wolf towards the pyramid, only slowed by his inferior human form.  
  
Felicia shook where she stood and shouted after him, "Jon, wait! I'm not going to let you go it alone!" She took off after him, senses alert.  
  
~  
  
The run through the city was chaotic. Vehicles were literally being crushed in the faults and lost in the cracks. Buildings fell. And oh the casualties were unheard of for a natural disaster in that city! It was a catastrophe of epic proportions.  
  
Finally, the two of them stood at the base of the pyramid. To say that it was monumentally tall and imposing would be to say that a snail is monumentally small and frail. A bright shimmering similar to a completely golden version of the aurora borealis extended from the top and throughout the skies above. This was the abode of a God.  
  
Talbain's silence-breaking words defined his character, "So: which way in?"  
  
Felicia looked at him as if he were nuts as he placed his nose to a golden block of the pyramid and began to smell for something.  
  
After an hour search that was both exhausting for Talbain and boring for Felicia, the werewolf leaned against the pyramid, ready to give up. Randomly, his ears twitched and he let out a yelp as he fell into the structure as if it were a curtain, the golden wall of the base rippling behind him with a shimmer and then becoming still.  
  
Felicia tilted her head and walked forward. She reached out a paw to touch the strange wall, and a human hand reached back and pulled her in as she screamed.  
  
~  
  
The inside of the pyramid was as breathtaking as the outside. Golden walls lined with jewel-shone hieroglyphics lead off into various archways and tunnels. In the center of the room where they found themselves was a single green-tinted flame for light.  
  
Talbain wasted no time fooling around with artistic admiration: his immediate focus was on getting to the bottom of this and he trudged forward through the first hallway he came to, Felicia following haplessly behind him with a sigh.  
  
~  
  
Through a security camera hidden in the walls, a figure watched the two of them enter from a room far deeper in the pyramid. Like unto his home, he was large and imposing. He stood at least eight foot tall but was sitting down at his desk in a comfortable chair at this point, wearing a magenta dress suit and golden tie as well as large black dress shoes. In addition to this, he wore honey-tinted sunglasses.  
  
The only hint of what he truly was would have to be that the large body under the clothes was swathed in wrapping from the bald head to the large toes. All except for the eyes, which remained well hidden behind the sunglasses, and the hands, which revealed themselves to be sickly dried out and brown colored with the decay of ages as he drummed them impatiently upon the marble desk.  
  
The figure slowly reached over and pressed down a red button built into the desk. "Secretary of Defense", he addressed in his clearly Middle- Eastern accent, "We have two walk-ins. Make them an appointment with Anubis."  
  
"It shall be done, Oh Mighty One", a smaller voice with a familiar accent to the figure's replied over the small speaker beside the button.  
  
~  
  
Felicia was getting very spooked at the various images she was seeing on the walls. Wars, bloody wars, were exquisitely painted in proper hieroglyphic pictorials. Statues of various animals lay upon sacrificial altars, but they looked a little too real in this light. Most disturbing of all, in the room they had just entered, a pair of twin sarcophagi lined the doorway to the next room, as if eerie sentinels.  
  
Talbain's nose caught a whiff of something and he lowered himself into a readied mid-stance, "Felicia, get ready: I smell herbs."  
  
Felicia looked up at him, "What's the problem there? You've never been allergic to spices when I cooked for you, so why now?"  
  
Talbain shot her a glare, "Preservation herbs, Felicia."  
  
Felicia's face went blue, "You don't mean m-m-mummies??"  
  
He didn't say anything: he simply looked towards the sarcophagi as they began to slowly creak open. Felicia let out a piercing scream and leapt behind Jon. She wasn't normally afraid of other Darkstalkers, but mummies were just creepy!  
  
When the lids to the sarcophagi first fell to the ground with an echoing thud, stirring up the dust around them in small clouds, only empty blackness could be seen within. Then, at a slow gait, lumbered forth two twin mummies wearing shades and gray tuxedos. They stopped in front of the catwoman and werewolf, each making an identical gesture by crossing an arm over their chest ceremonially.  
  
"Defilers will be destroyed. So sayeth Anakaris-Ra. The Only. The Absolute. Bow before Lord Anakaris or burn with the flames of the Twelve Hours Of Night", the pair chanted in unison, their voices sickly lifeless.  
  
"When I bow", Talbain snarled, "It means I'm about to kick something!" Without another word, he dashed at the two mummies with what could be called superhuman speed were he not still in the form of a man. He raised a foot, executing a climb razor kick to the abdomen of one of the huge guards.  
  
The guard lost his balance for a second, but regained it. It appeared otherwise unfazed. The two 'gentlemen' bluntly snatched Talbain into the air, one by his arms and the other by his legs, and tossed him smack into the nearest object: a golden statue.  
  
As Talbain slowly rose to his feet, his blurry eyes caught sight of the guards standing before him, and he began to feel the sharp kicks of steel toed boots worn by massive feet all over his body. He writhed in pain, yelping over and over, but there was little he could do: they had caught him off guard.  
  
Felicia darted around from statue to statue, taking advantage of the fact that she was well hidden to plan a sneak attack and help her friend, but she needed a blunt object with which to teach these guys a lesson. She found it in the golden statue of a cat with emerald eyes and a protective look about it.  
  
As she snuck up from behind to give one of the guards a good flog upside the head so that they would chase her, the faster, instead of Jon, one of the guards turned around, glaring at her. Oh no! He had sensed her!  
  
As the guard reached out to grab her as well, something strange happened. The cat's emerald eyes lit up and it fired twin beams of light into the guard's forehead. It collapsed onto the ground in a heap of linen strips, dust escaping from underneath.  
  
Felicia looked at the statue in disbelief, completely unaware that it had been an avatar of Bastet, protector of cats and cat people. She tilted her head, "Hmm. I wonder if this thing is some kind of weapon. Let's find out."  
  
She aimed it at the other guard and tried to yell an activation phrase, "Go Kitty Thing Go!" No effect. Her ears drooped. The guard was still harassing Jon with blunt kicks to his skull and there was no way she could take him on herself.  
  
Finally, out of options, she walked up to the guard and tapped him on his large shoulder, "Excuse me ugly: how does this thing work?"  
  
The guard turned around to strike her and was blasted by the statue. Felicia shrugged and grinned, "Well at least it worked. Oh no! Jon!"  
  
She rushed over, helping him to a sitting position. He had been roughed up pretty bad and his new clothes were ripped, revealing that he had been wearing his old purple training slacks and red martial arts belt all along underneath.  
  
Talbain slowly rose to his feet, groaning with the bruises that covered him now, and shred off the remains of his outer suit, "This guy's going down."  
  
~  
Deep within the pyramid, Anakaris-Ra was still watching the events over the hidden camera within every room of the pyramid. He would have frowned had he enough facial muscle left to execute such a maneuver.  
  
He opened a desk drawer and took out something he hoped he would not have to use this soon. It appeared to be an onyx carving of a flame. He threw the miniature statue over the desk and onto the floor, where it shattered.  
  
From the dust, a black smoke began to rise, and with it, an intense, high flame. The flame took a humanoid shape and knelt in a bow before its creator. "What is thy wish my Master", it's voice crackled as it spoke.  
  
Anakaris was all business, "Dispose of the intruders and bring me their souls."  
  
The flame golem stood, placing one arm over its chest in a ceremonial pattern known to all of the Pharaoh's servants, and dashed out of the room with the speed of a roaring forest fire, leaving a trail of smoke behind it.  
  
~  
  
Talbain and Felicia had been battling their way down level after endless level of the pyramid, destroying everything that stood against them. Along the way they had battled mummy priests, mummy soldiers, mummy archers, brain-eating scarabs, and even a strange cross between a jackal and a ghoul.  
  
Nothing could have prepared them for what waited at the bottom-most level just before the room in which Anakaris-Ra himself watched them.  
  
Talbain was the first to enter, and he immediately stanced. Felicia traversed in afterwards, assuming the same posture, which she had picked up from her friend.  
  
The flame golem crossed its burning arm-like appendages and grinned, cackling maniacally like the hiss of a fire, "Your luck just ran out defilers!"  
  
Talbain wiped the sweat from his brow, "This is gonna be another close one. Looks like it's time for me to turn it up a notch."  
  
Felicia stepped back, not sure what he was up to, but she was about to find out. Talbain lifted his head skywards and let out a piercing howl, his body beginning to contort and spasm with the force of the change coming over it. The formerly humanoid shape became that of a hybrid between a man and a wolf. More commonly known as a wolf man, Talbain's true power is that of a werewolf or lycanthrope.  
  
Two yellow and black lupine eyes focused on the flame golem as Talbain's muzzle turned upward in a snarling growl. He lunged forward, a bizarre blue flame encasing his body as his primal howl sounded through the walls of the pyramid. He hit the creature dead on, knocking it back with his signature Beast Cannon.  
  
The flame golem, now slammed against a wall, rose to its 'feet' and shrugged off the damage. It simply grinned, encased itself in a similar red aura, and hurled itself at Talbain using an exact duplicate of his signature move.  
  
"Jon!" Felicia screamed as he spun round from the attack and hit the floor hard. She knew she had to do something and fast. She lifted the Bastet statue and crossed her fingers, "Please, please work." Nothing. Her eyes widened.  
  
Then it occurred to her. Magical items, though powerful, have a limited number of charges. They had probably expended all the power in the statue fighting off this guy's countless minions. This was bad, she thought to herself.  
  
Jon, the wolf, jumped to his feet, giving the creature a warning snarl. The flame golem seemed oblivious and kept walking towards its quarry, a flame ball forming in one hand. That hand outstretched. Talbain stanced. The hand fired.  
  
As the ball soared through the air towards its' target, it was intercepted and dispersed by an even stranger phenomenon: a floating ball of water. All eyes turned towards the source of the ball. There stood a green and gold-scaled mercreature with eyes the color of a stormy sea. He didn't look like he wanted to play around.  
  
"This bonfire's got to go", the merman said in the voice of a young, Brazilian man. That said, he flung himself forward in a twisting spin lunge at the flame golem, his pores inexplicably excreting saltwater that became a massive bubble shield as he slammed headfirst into the enemy.  
  
The flame golem's last action was an attempt to block. The attempt was excruciatingly unsuccessful and as the water dowsed the flames, the salt caused the charred remains to explode in a bizarre chemical reaction. It was a brilliant finish to a brilliant foe, or so it appeared as the merman landed in a kneel, unscathed.  
  
Talbain and Felicia were stunned, but the merman looked to them, his eyes as intense as lightning, "What are you two waiting for! We still have to handle the mastermind behind this disaster!"  
  
Talbain slowly stood, "First thing's first. Who are you?"  
  
The merman stood, turning his back to them, "It's really not important, but my name is Aulbath and I'm here to protect my forest from this monster. Let's go."  
  
At first Talbain was reluctant to follow Aulbath as he strode towards the door leading into Anakaris-Ra's main chambers, but Felicia put a hand on his shoulder and he slowly nodded, eyes focused. All three of them approached the door.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TO BE CONTINUED~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	4. Episode 4: The Ressurrection of Anakaris...

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE FOUR: THE RESSURECTION OF ANAKARIS-RA / PT. II  
  
Aulbath, Talbain, and Felicia stood before a set of golden double doors that seemed to be designed to make you feel small. Ornately carved within every section of the doors was a square in which a particular hieroglyphic symbol lay dormant, as if to ward against something. Naturally, the trio was surprised when the massive gates to the room behind merely slid open like electric doors at a supermarket, allowing them entry.  
  
The room inside was completely alien to everything they had just experienced, or perhaps anything they had ever experienced. A bizarre art form that merged the cultures of Ancient Egypt and Modern America decored the room in the form of marble carved into modern furniture, electronic devices lined with gold and other precious metals, and of course the oversized desk with the lime colored lamp on it.  
  
The most imposing features of the room were a toss of the coin. On one side of that coin, a network of security monitor screens that were far too advanced for an ancient pyramid lined the back wall of the room. On the other side of the equation was the room's inhabitant, the behemoth Anakaris-Ra.  
  
The tyrannical pharaoh eased back in his chair, viewing the insurgents through those honey shades of his. He raised those two sickly decayed hands and applauded, "I congratulate you. Few have made it this far among the living. You simply must be mine: gather at my knees and I will forgive all that you have done, for you are like unto myself. Born strong and proud, with a will of tempered steel."  
  
Aulbath was the first to step forward, "Do not fool with me. I know what you did to my home and I am going to take every natural life your pyramid in Brazil took directly out of your mummified hide."  
  
"You mean there are MORE of these things?" Felicia shouted at Aulbath with a screech to her voice that resembled a nagging Latino mother from the inner city.  
  
"Yessss", Aulbath cringed in response, "They've apparently been rising everywhere I guess. Who knows what this maniac intends to do with them."  
  
Anakaris laughed, "Fool! You should be wondering what I've already done!" The monstrous pharaoh stood, outstretching his hand.  
  
All three fighters stanced in preparation for a possible assault, but what they got was a bizarre green flame that appeared before them and focused into a holographic screen. Upon the screen, clips of pyramids rising worldwide began to play.  
  
"As we speak", the mummy continued while motioning to the screen, "My grand ceremony is being set into motion. Soon, all seven pyramids shall be risen, one for every continent, and the precious energy I need for my revival will be at my fingertips!"  
  
"Revival?" Talbain quirked a furry brown, "Start talking, Band-Aid."  
  
Anakaris walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it as he turned his head to the screen, "It should seem like so very long ago, but to the immortals time is nothing. Thousands of years have passed since my demise; my departure from this life, and the humanity that it brings.  
  
I was among the more fair and just of the rulers of Egypt, and my people loved me. However, the tribes from the north saw fit to invade and pillage my kingdom, and a war was imminent. Many fought bravely, myself included, but in the end those who were not destroyed were conquered and enslaved. Being among the slain, I was in absolutely no position to help my people.  
  
However, I had a backup, and this is where the revival comes into play. I was placed by my final orders before the grand battle in a tomb by the bravest of my scouts. There the magic of the gods, and the prayers of my people, worked upon me, restoring my soul to its rightful body and endowing me with superhuman strength.  
  
Sadly, this body will crumble as dust in the wind with time, and so will all of my powers if I am not TRULY resurrected as the God I was intended to be. And so you see, I must complete this ceremony if I am to free my people and rule as I was destined to rule from the day I was born. My blood is the blood of Osirus."  
  
Talbain had heard enough, "You're strong, I'll give you that, but you are not a God, Anakaris-Ra. Not anymore than the three of us, and you have no right to rule this world or treat innocent lives like your playthings. Stand up straight and fight old man."  
  
Anakaris-Ra did not budge, "Brash, even arrogant, just as I would expect from a younger fighter, especially one as primal as yourself. You seem to be oblivious to the fact that I hold sway over everything here. This is my world now, and I am the only god mortals need concern themselves with for I represent the higher ones flawlessly, or so I shall once my rejuvenation is completed and I ascend to the rank of a deity."  
  
Felicia narrowed her eyes, "That's not going to happen. It's dark ones like you who make Darkstalkers like us look bad. We struggle our whole lives to show people we're not all bad, and you go and pull something like this. How dare you!"  
  
Anakaris did something unexpected at this point, and reached up to his own face, removing the sunglasses and throwing them aside to reveal two piercing white eyes that could incite fear in the bold and cowardice in the courageous. His voice echoed through the walls of the pyramid as he spoke, "I DARE BECAUSE I AM OF IMMORTAL BLOOD AND ROYAL LINEAGE. THOU CANST NOT COMPARE WOMAN."  
  
Without hesitation, the evil pharaoh's jaw opened wide through his bandages, which unraveled to reveal a mouth of decadent, disgusting brown teeth. Over those teeth escaped a bizarre green vapor on which trailed the moan of a curse. The emerald fog surrounded Felicia and POOF! In her place stood a white cat. More confident than ever, the pharaoh picked up the kitten in his big strong arms and laughed hardily.  
  
Talbain could no longer contain his rage, "You monster!! I'll show you!!" In a blind fury, the wolf burst forth in his Beast Cannon, hurling himself with a sharp howl and all the energy he could muster at his opponent.  
  
The technique hit Anakaris square in the forehead, knocking him for a loop. The mummy king slowly rose from his face and clenched his fist, uttering another mummy's curse: this time directed at the martial artist werewolf.  
  
No sooner had his voice silenced in an elongated echo than the room began to shake violently. A large piece of stone fell from the ceiling, battering Jon over the head before he could dodge and knocking him unconscious under its weight.  
  
Felicia quickly scratched at the pharaoh's eyes and jumped from his arms, rushing over to Jon's side and mewing pathetically as she was helpless to dig him out.  
  
Aulbath stanced between the evil mummy and the primal pair, his eyes narrowing into slits, "Give me all the fire you've got. I can take the heat."  
  
Anakaris simply laughed at first, then nodded, "If it is fire you desire, then far be it from me to disappoint you, oh Hero of the Deep!" The mummy raised his arms into the air, as if in a pose to claim his victory already won, and then slowly began to rise off his feet, chanting in a strange tongue all the while.  
  
Anakaris-Ra's eyes lit up with the bizarre magic that was his very life force, an equally bizarre sphere of pure flames appearing before him. He launched the fireball down at his opponent, laughing at the idea of the execution being 'asked for'.  
  
Aulbath was ready. As the fireball made contact with his body, it began to completely dissipate into steam vapors. The merman only smiled as the steam cleared away, revealing him to be unscathed, and launched himself in a jumping flip towards his undead obstacle: the dark pharaoh himself.  
  
Anakaris' eyes widened as the merman developed spiked where they logically should not have been able to protrude and sliced through him like a carpet knife to canvas material. Aulbath excreted one more strange attack to even the score before diving out the back of the monstrous Anakaris: a poisonous, and highly flammable, purple mist.  
  
Aulbath was not sure if he had managed to destroy the enemy yet, but he felt he should check on the others. When he looked over, he was surprised to find Felicia restored to her normal self, holding Jon Talbain in her safe arms.  
  
Puzzled, the merman tilted his head, "What gives?"  
  
Felicia grinned that kitty grin, "The magic must've worn off. Here, you hold Jon", she dragged the still unconscious Talbain over to him, "I'll handle this guy."  
  
Aulbath's eyes widened, "You're insane!"  
  
Felicia simply grinned again, "Maaaaaybe, but this time I've got a method to my madness!" She winked at the still confused fish guy, narrowed her eyes at Anakaris, and ducked into a spinning dash roll, moving at the pharaoh with superhuman speed and striking his already poison saturated bandages on fire with the friction she generated as she grazed by him.  
  
Anakaris caught flame immediately, his haunting howls of pain echoing through the walls hard enough to begin cracking and crumbling them.  
  
Aulbath slung Talbain over his shoulder and looked to Felicia, "I think it's time we were going from this place, don't you?"  
  
Felicia nodded, "M'hmm!"  
  
The trio managed to make it all the way up the stairs, but things were falling apart all around them. At one point on the top floor things appeared to be getting dark and swirlish, as if they were being caught up in an abstract vortex. That vortex finally swallowed them up, and spit them out just as the huge structure exploded, crashing them down not so gently onto the pavement of the city outside.  
  
Felicia couldn't believe her eyes, "The fireworks are beautiful!"  
  
Aulbath looked to the sky with keen eyes, "To think they were so deadly."  
  
~  
  
Talbain groaned as he awoke on the couch. He looked around. Felicia's place: what had happened? Where was she? Was it all a dream?  
  
He didn't have to wait long. Felicia came in wearing a pink apron and bearing a bowl of soup. She smiled as she saw him, "You're awake!"  
  
As she hugged him tightly, she accidentally dropped the hot soup in his lap. He yelped and jumped off the couch.  
  
Felicia's eyes widened, "Oh Christ! I'm sorry Jon! I'm so klutzy! Here, let me help you clean it off." She rushed over and took a rag to his pants very carefully.  
  
Jon winced as she was cleaning, "Good thing I'm not the beast or this would never come out of my fur, but thank you: I appreciate you making me dinner."  
  
Felicia slipped again, this time landing in his lap. She looked up at him and blushed, but he only laughed this time. She laughed too.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	5. Episode 5: Grumpy Dead Men

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE FIVE: GRUMPY DEAD MEN  
  
Anakaris' eyes opened slowly. He was arraigned in his pharaonic adornments: the head mask, the golden tunic, and the arm and leg bracers, all in striped of gold and blue. The rest of his body was only garbed in his linen funeral wrappings.  
  
All around him he saw small, crimson-colored flames floating in an endless darkness, having nothing to cast light upon save each other and himself. All of the flames are aligned in circular rows extending outward from him.  
  
Anakaris fell to his knees and moaned with grief, "I have failed you, Gods of Egypt! May the scales of Ma'at show mercy on my soul!"  
  
"Mercy iz somethin' ye have to earn in this world", a distorted, raspy echo resembling the voice of a Britannic man called through the darkness, causing the already shaken Anakaris to sit up and look about himself with keen eyes.  
  
As his body began to tremble, a figure approaching from that darkness beyond gave him a reason to be afraid. The figure was tall, though by no means as tall as he, and gaunt as a skeleton. In fact, that is almost exactly what it appeared to be: a skeleton with spiky violet locks of hair adorning its' skull like unto devilish horns and just enough skin, decomposed muscle, and exposed tissue remains to fill it out. Regardless of the 'outer skin', a thin film of albino white over its mostly bony frame, it was clearly held together by supernatural animation. Its eyes, sunk deep in their sockets, were blood red.  
  
Dependant on the beholder, the most obscene feature of this creature may have been its body, or perhaps it was the clothing with which it adorned itself. Semi-ragged plum trousers were held in place by a spiked, black leather belt at the waist and by heavy brown leather boots, over one of which a spiked black leather leg cuff was placed, at the bottom. Over the hands were fingerless gloves, the same color as the trousers, with three distinct metal studs on the back of each.  
  
The ghoulish apparition strutted his way past the flames, letting his (on closer inspection, the figure was clearly intended to be a male) arms dangle wildly about him in a carefree meander. He seemed to be singing to himself in a strange tongue with an admittedly charismatic voice, but that was about the only trait he possessed which did not utterly turn the stomach upside down. He also seemed to be taking his sweet time before finally walking right up to edge of the inner circle of flames in which Anakaris stood.  
  
Anakaris kept his eyes keen, "What is the meaning of this place, sorcerer?"  
  
The ghastly vocalist tilted his head to the side, twisting his neck around completely upside-down like an owl, and then back to its intended position. A demonic smile crossed his face and he reached up, "Ohhhhh greeeeeat magiiiic POKE!" He slammed two disgusting bony fingers into the mummy's eyes and laughed, "Loser!"  
  
Anakaris was angry now, "You putrid little jackal! Prepare to die!" He raised his own arms and shouted an echoing mummy's curse at the sarcastic ghoul.  
  
The green mist escaped from under his golden mask, but as it began to surround the figure in question, a strange series of electric sparks went off, and the horrible creature laughed in a high-pitched, maniacal, even unearthly manner.  
  
The fog had dissipated and the ghoul was unscathed. His red eyes met with Anakaris' now bloodshot orbs and flashed with the cold fire of the grave. Before the pharaoh could react, he found that his opponent had been raised up on a high platform along with an equally high podium in front of him.  
  
The menacing creature took out a steel gavel and slammed it on the podium, making a ponderous thud, "The Court've Lord Raptor is in session. Presidin'? Who else but Yerz Truly, and the case is Hell versus The Big, Ugly Dude."  
  
Anakaris foamed with rage, his fists clenching, "HOW DARE THEE! I AM THE SUN! I AM THE LORD OF THE LANDS ABOVE AND BELOW THE EARTH!"  
  
The 'judge', now calling himself Lord Raptor, promptly turned around and lowered his pants, baring his bony buttocks to the defendant, "The Court moves that ye should blow it out yer arse. The defendant iz accused of causing a major upset in the Human World that cost many lives an' created massive paperwork for a certain angry judge, attempting to conquer the world, and otherwise bein' a naughty lil' jackass."  
  
Lord Raptor leaned over the podium and grinned with those big, biting teeth of his, "How do ye plead, jackass." The accusation had been laid down.  
  
Anakaris looked up at his unworthy prosecutor and decided that, if he was to be degraded in this manner, he would muster as much pride as possible, "I plead guilty."  
  
Lord Raptor scratched his chin, "I see. Well, well, what're we gonna do with ye then? I could put yer soul in a purgatory file for the remainder of your sentence."  
  
Anakaris gritted his teeth, "And how long is that may I inquire."  
  
The judge laughed, "Forever."  
  
Anakaris had about had enough of this, "Unreasonable!"  
  
Raptor laughed harder, "Like ye've got any say in th' matter. I'm really not 'sposed t' do this, but I'm thinking yer too stiff a stick to break so easily an' I'm bored as, heh, Hell today anyway, so I'll play a little game with ye if yer up for it."  
  
Anakaris narrowed his eyes, "Go to Hell."  
  
The ghoulish Lord only grinned back to this before replying, "Where, praytell, do ye think we've been having this lil' courtroom soap? Tell ye what; I'll make ye a wager t' motivate ye to play: if ye win, ye'll get me guitar. It contains my most powerful magic and could revive ye completely as per yer plans."  
  
Anakaris was all business, "And if you win?"  
  
Raptor snickered, "I get to eat yer soul and take yer powers."  
  
Anakaris crossed his arms, "What are your terms demon."  
  
~  
  
Talbain was walking home with a sack of groceries under each arm. The long walk to his inner city apartment with food he was used to just hunting and eating in cans, cartons, and other unnecessarily heavy containers reminded him vaguely of weight training as a kid.  
  
He was a few blocks from his place when the dark clouds began to gather overhead. Rapid and threatening, he knew this was a severe storm at best and something to be far more cautious of at worst. The fighter set down his groceries and stood as straight and still as possible like a meerkat, nose searching for any strange aromas.  
  
The clouds had merged now into a thick quilt of dark blue spanning the entire sky. Sparks of streak lightning coursed from cloud to cloud at an alarming rate.  
  
~  
  
Both alarmed and confused, Felicia was stumbling about in another part of the city. Her cat-like senses were a wreck and she could barely see straight. The smell of death and corruption in the air was strong, but there was an obscure charisma to it all that drew you in before repelling you. She was somewhere between the waves of all this.  
  
Felicia had been heading to a meeting with her agent that very afternoon. Obviously this wasn't going to pan out, but she was more worried about her physical health than the health of her ego at this point. After a good fifteen minutes of this torture, she tripped onto her face involuntarily, losing consciousness for the time being.  
  
~  
  
Talbain wasn't looking so great himself. A cold sweat had enveloped his body and the sound of people falling around him with a yielding groan was making him sicker. He hated to see suffering, whether it was a darkstalker or a human. The thought was simply adverse to the nobler traits of his character.  
  
He was currently dressed in a blue denim vest, blue jeans, and his favorite homemade brown leather boots, but all were soaked with his own perspiration as he struggled along, trying his best not to fall under the strange spell of the aura, which, even now, enveloped the entire city in its grip of terror and mayhem.  
  
As he neared Town Square, the unthinkable happened: things got worse. The bodies of several of the towns inhabitants, some of which he had come to know himself in the time he had been here, lay strewn about, half-eaten by some monster.  
  
Talbain walked forward at the remains of a familiar face: Mrs. Jargon. The poor woman, only in her thirties, was laid out like a rag doll, part of her face missing. Talbain knelt down, holding her up in his arms. A tear fell down his face and his teeth began to grit as his body began to quiver with rage, "Why? Why is this happening!!!"  
  
Human hands did not set down the body of the woman. They were now the furry white claws of the beast. Talbain's long ears perked as he heard what he thought to be guitar playing in the distance. He bounded off in the music's general direction.  
  
~  
  
The normally quiet cemetery's peace had been disturbed by a fierce wind howling as a result of the storm overhead and a notable guitar shredding in the style of a great progressive metal live show. The normally green grass over the graves, which were now open, had turned to a colorless gray as if partially burned.  
  
The propagator of this unlikely 'concert' was none other than Lord Raptor himself. He stood atop a mausoleum, guitar raised high in the air and not missing a beat. All around him stood the normally peaceful inhabitants of the city, now members of his captive living dead audience, contributing as vessels for his evil energies.  
  
Talbain sprang over the stone wall of the cemetery, still in lupine hybrid form, and snarled, "I don't know who you are, but it's time for you to die."  
  
Raptor cackled at this, lowering his head into a sneer, "Can't do that friend. Already dead 'm afraid, but have a seat!" Just then a root within the ground reached up and tripped Talbain, knocking him into the open grave behind him which was easily six feet deep with no visible coffin at the bottom, "Show's jes beginnin' baby."  
  
Talbain tried to leap from the grave. It would have been relatively easy if the roots from the plants growing below the ground hadn't animated themselves and reached out, holding him fast in his front row seat to the eerie spectacle. He gnashed his pointed teeth and clawed, kicked, and threw himself about with all his might trying to escape, but the more he struggled, the more branch-like appendages seemed to encircle him.  
  
Now literally earthbound, the werewolf was helpless to intervene in the events to follow. Raptor, on the other hand, was reveling in his 'coming out party'. The dead spectators stood around him silently moving back and forth, possibly numbering one hundred in all. The ghoul continued to grind upon his musical axe.  
  
"Now then", Lord Raptor looked towards a particularly monumental family tomb, "Lez bring our friend up t' speed an' get this show on th' road!" The devilish creature spun his guitar over his head twice and brought it down, making an unearthly distorted squeal on the high bar with his nimble, albeit rotten, fingertips.  
  
In response to the sonic wave generated by the guitar, the tomb began to thunder and crack. Finally, it exploded from within and a bright golden light shone outward from the spot where it had been. There stood Anakaris- Ra in full pharaonic garb.  
  
Talbain's eyes widened, "Not you!" He struggled even harder, still held captive by the evil animated vines of the graveyard. It was to no avail.  
  
Raptor leapt from his perch and landed roughly two meters from Anakaris-Ra. The two of them assumed their individual stances, that of the mummy being straightforward and militant while the ghoul's was cunning and loose.  
  
Anakaris had no intentions of playing around, "Let us end this."  
  
Raptor, on the other hand, wanted nothing BUT to play. He cackled maniacally and ran forward, head lowered like a bull, slamming into the flat-footed Anakaris with his full dead weight (give or take ninety pounds). Knocked from his feet, the evil pharaoh found himself upon his oversized back.  
  
He looked up to the demonic Raptor with malice in his eyes, "DIE YOU IMPUDENT DOG!" His forearm reached out with unnatural elasticity based on the fact that he was capable of magically multiplying his own linen 'exoskeleton' and gripped Raptor by the throat, dragging him at a whopping sixty miles per hour both into and across the dirt of the necropolis, embedding him within it and retracting his arm.  
  
Anakaris stood, his only regret that the golden mask prevented his face from showing how pleased he was with himself, "Buried as a commoner's corpse should be!"  
  
From beneath the ground, a sick laughter erupted and an explosion of dark energy went off as the morbid maniac lunged forward from underneath the mummy pharaoh, a whole new weapon (namely, a razor sharp chainsaw known as Skull), and literally dismembered both of Anakaris' legs at the knees, sending him crashing to the ground.  
  
His legs vanishing, Anakaris raised himself up, floating upon his waist tunic as if it were a magic carpet taking him higher and higher into the air. He slowly glided downward at his opponent, wrapping both arms around each other and extending them in a bizarre projectile golden cobra's head that hardened at the end.  
  
The megaton, skull-breaking attack hit Raptor head on, throwing him back against the ground and several feet just plain back with enough force to carve a three foot indent in the ground below that trailed to where the ghoul's body lay.  
  
Raptor muttered a curse under his breath, not for any magical effects, but simply because he felt like it, and slowly raised his somewhat broken body to its feet.  
  
Anakaris was still in the air, barreling down at him. This time, a green vapor escaped from under his mask as before. The pharaoh grinned beneath his faceplate, "You may be immune to my magic in your realm, but here you are as vulnerable as I."  
  
The mist surrounded a confused Raptor and POOF! In his place was a tiny, mandolin sized battle-axe guitar with his shrunken head where the top should be. "This iz SO not my look", Raptor the Guitar shouted in a midget voice.  
  
Anakaris put his hands on his hips and laughed that snobbish laugh of his, "I disagree! Small and helpless is the PERFECT look for you!"  
  
As the pharaoh had a good laugh at Raptor's humiliation, the almost unconscious Talbain felt something begin to dig through the vines, which had inexplicably loosened their hold, and hold him close. The form was soft and warm, but it was the smell that the fighter recognized. He embraced Felicia with the last of his strength.  
  
Felicia held his head close to her heart, "What have they done to you?" She closed her eyes and released a wailing mew from deep in her throat. The sonic effects of the note she held swept over Talbain's body, healing his wounds and restoring him to a state of health that was better than ever.  
  
The Kung Fu Wolf Man stood gallantly, "Let's go be heroes Felicia."  
  
Anakaris picked up Raptor by the base, holding him by the base and painfully plucking at his chords, "Behold! The ballad of Lord Raptor's demise!"  
  
"How about singing your own tune 'Pharaoh'", a sharp kick knocked Anakaris asunder. Talbain and Felicia stood above him angrily as he slowly pulled himself up.  
  
Raptor the Guitar was flung from the attack and crashed to the ground. As the pharaoh's concentration had been lost, he returned to his normal form on impact. Raptor looked around himself, and snapped his fingers, opening a swirling black vortex above him, "Time to exit stage left!" He jumped through, and it closed behind him.  
  
The clouds in the sky began to fade, and the wind ceased howling. Anakaris backed away, raising hands in a surrendering manner, "I concede mortals. You have bested me for the time being, but I will return one day, stronger than ever." That said, the evil pharaoh raised himself into the air before either Talbain or Felicia could grab him and vanished in a flash of light like unto the sun.  
  
Felicia put a hand on Talbain's shoulder, "You'll get your chance."  
  
Talbain merely glanced skyward and growled.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	6. Episode 6: Sasquatchs Last Stand

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE SIX: SASQUATCH'S LAST STAND  
  
Jon was putting the finishing touches on a new coat of paint for the door to Felicia's apartment when the freezing cold water from a hose sprayed over the buttocks of his tight blue jeans. He jumped with a yelp, and almost lost his balance on the metal stairway before landing a turn to see the perpetrator, "Felicia!"  
  
Felicia giggled, waving the hose, "Sorry. It was open."  
  
Talbain gave her that roguish grin of his, "That's ok. I completely understand." He promptly leapt off the stairway and onto the ground. Felicia screamed with a grin as he chased her around the yard, snatching up the hose she'd dropped and returning fire.  
  
It was a lucky thing that Talbain had left the door open a crack in case of a phone call, because that's exactly what happened. Talbain had just tackled Felicia and she was screeching happily as he wrestled with her when the phone bell sounded.  
  
At first they ignored it, but it continued, and Felicia gently pushed him off her, "Better get that. Might be my agent." Talbain nodded as she went inside and picked up the phone, speaking politely into it, "Hello? Felicia here."  
  
Talbain was just getting up when Felicia came bounding out of the house and stopped in front of him, "It's Aulbath."  
  
Talbain groaned, "Him again? Why do I get the feeling it's bad news?"  
  
Felicia nodded gravely, "Let's pack: we're going to Canada."  
  
Talbain's face was blank, "We're what?"  
  
"C'mon!" Felicia screamed and grabbed him by the arm. Talbain yelped as she yanked him inside and they began packing their suitcases for the trip.  
  
~  
  
~MACKENZIE MOUNTAIN RANGE, YUKON TERRITORY CANADA~  
  
Talbain's mind was swimming over the events, which had occurred in the last day's time. The evening of the call had been a turbulent one; full of hurried packing of any essentials they might need for a backpacking trip to the Canadian Mountains and then a race in a taxi to the city docks, where a private plane licensed to one Al Bath was exclusively landed. It was of the sort that could use the sea for its runway and take off from somewhere out there, but it was also very cramped.  
  
The man who greeted them at the docks had seemed to be a very shady figure, but Talbain recognized that fishy scent and it wasn't long before Aulbath revealed himself from under the trenchcoat and hat. Talbain's mind reflected back to the takeoff:  
  
~  
  
There he sat in a large furry coat typical of those worn in the country, his hair still a mess and a pair of sunglasses over his face to protect his light-sensitive eyes from the snow of the mountains.  
  
Felicia was shivering so he gave her his coat. Underneath he was just wearing a pair of blue slacks, a black muscle shirt, and his leather boots. He could deal with it: his body had been trained from day one to resist the elements.  
  
"What's the meaning of dragging us clear out to Canada, Aulbath", Talbain barked an hour into the journey, breaking his meditation and shivering a bit.  
  
Aulbath looked back to him as he navigated the controls in front, "Just call me Ricky. I have some friends in Canada who are having a real pest control problem in their mountain village. The challenge is right up your alley Jon."  
  
Talbain quirked a brow, "I'm listening."  
  
'Ricky' continued, "They're known as the Sasquatch: relatives of your Bigfoots. They keep to themselves and mind their own business most of the time, and expect others to do the same when at all possible. As a result they put their village high in the mountains so nobody could get to them."  
  
"Then how'd you meet them in the first place", Talbain interrupted.  
  
"It was pretty much an accident", Ricky acknowledged, "I was doing some cliffhanging in the area and I saw the most beautiful peak above the snowy clouds. Somehow it called to me, and I answered. I climbed it, ignoring the danger, and when I got to the top, I found a village full of those guys. I had to challenge their guardsman, a big guy named Quatos, before they would let me stay and warm up."  
  
"They sound like a friendly bunch", Talbain grinned, "What makes you think that Felicia and I will get a warm welcome if you didn't?"  
  
Ricky laughed good-naturedly, "Because you're with me, Amigo."  
  
~  
  
The plane was landing. Talbain startled awake and looked out the tiny window at the mountains all around. It looked treacherous to walk through, much less fly through. Talbain wasn't used to being this high, but aside from panting more, he was ok.  
  
The landing went off without a hitch. Talbain had to admit to himself that, for a guy who was supposed to be ocean bound, Ricky sure could fly like a pro.  
  
There they were, disembarking from their tiny personal jet, now landed in the middle of a circular disc cleared for them like a helicopter pad in the middle of the mountain village, all of whom's buildings resembled a ski lodge.  
  
Several funny looking creatures came out to greet the travelers. Icy white in color, these round, furry apes had HUGE five-toed feet and hands almost as large.  
  
One particularly large guy walked up and embraced them all together in a suffocating bear hug, opening his enormous fanged mouth to grin, "WELCOME!"  
  
~  
  
The four of them (Talbain, Felicia, Ricky, and the large Sasquatch) were sitting around a table in a warm lodge with a map of the area laid out before them.  
  
Felicia was still shivering and Ricky wasn't any better off.  
  
"This is where it strikes every night", the Sasquatch bellowed, "A horrible demon in a suit of armor. It lives to kill and kills to live. Our numbers are falling."  
  
Talbain knew he had recognized a familiar scent. One of his blue eyes widened and twitched as he recalled an event long gone by:  
  
~  
  
Talbain had been a young man, maybe twenty-three, when it happened. He was in England under the full moon, transformed and out of control. His goal was to hunt.  
  
He could see it as if it had happened during the light of day. His nose picked up the stench of blood and he knew food was nearby. He had dashed at full speed toward the source only to find himself face to face with a face so horribly twisted with a mixture of agony and evil that it pulled at the sanity of the beholder.  
  
The figure wore red and gold armor: the armor of the samurai. Something about the armor was different though, and not just that the breastplate resembled a demonic face ready to devour all opponents. The thing, whatever it was, gave off a schizoid aura that showed an obvious conflict between two powerful souls, one good and one evil.  
  
The battle had been intense. The sword did more than its' fair share of damage. In fact, the more it sliced in, the more life force it seemed to drain as well as blood. Eventually, even at his full rage, the werewolf was powerless to fight the evil armor and found himself underfoot: literally.  
  
The samurai-like specter had leaned down over him, its razor sharp teeth gleaming with the blood of its victims. "You have the potential to be a very tasty course, my brother in darkness, but you are wanting in skill to challenge me right now. Give me your name, so we may meet again, and I will spare your life."  
  
At first, the beast was incapable of such a strategically advantageous act as he was in full rage, and he had struggled against the hold, but eventually blood loss and life drain took its toll, forcing him into human form. As he passed out, he groaned, "Jon. It's Jon."  
  
~  
  
Talbain leaned forward in real time, snapping out of it, "I know this creature."  
  
The others looked to him, and he nodded firmly, "I've fought it before. It is an expert tactician, so it will see us coming if we attack head on. We'll have a hard time sneaking up because it has a good sense of smell. However, I have a plan."  
  
Everyone leaned in as the martial artist began to explain his strategy.  
  
~  
  
The Hannya sat quietly in wait upon its' crude throne of various stones, soaked crimson red with the blood of the various bodies littered about. It had sensed the arrival of the four approaching entities and opened its bright red eyes, "Who seeks to die first among you travelers?"  
  
There stood, side by side, Jon Talbain, the werewolf master of martial arts, Felicia, the cat-girl whose high notes could break a skull, Aulbath, a mercreature whose exploits were the stuff of legends, and Quatos, bravest warrior of the Sasquatch.  
  
Quatos stepped forward, "That's enough out of you! You've been killing my brothers and now it's time I killed you!" The Sasquatch inhaled, creating a massive gust of wind, and exhaled with a thunderous roar that shook the mountains. With that breath came an attack, the ice beam, which froze the evil samurai in place on his throne.  
  
Quatos jumped into the air, one hand in a "V" sign for victory, and landed with a thud and a huge smile, "I did it! I stopped the demon!"  
  
He could not have been farther from his goal. Without warning, the ice that entombed the armor shattered, sending shards of sharp ice flying through the air. Previously unmoved from its' current position, the armor decided to stand.  
  
It looked to the Sasquatch, whose jaw was on the floor, and let out a deep, maniacal cackle, dashing forward with superhuman speed and slashing its sword deep into the ape's fur, knocking him onto his back where he bled profusely.  
  
As his friend lay moaning in agony on the icy ground, and the armor began to walk forward to claim its first victim of the night, Aulbath intervened. He gave the armor a sharp kick to the face, but to his surprise, the kick went clear through the horrific, smoky blue face into the back of the helmet and knocked it asunder.  
  
Now headless, the armor began to chop wildly at Aulbath, who did his best to dodge the wanton show of gratuitous violence and bloodshed. The armor simply would nod stop until it had killed everything in sight.  
  
As Aulbath dodged a lightning kick to his forehead, a sneak attack with the razor sharp blade of the Kien sword almost embedded itself in his ribs, but was kicked aside by a second intervening. The headless armor turned to find a white tail swatting it away.  
  
Felicia was stanced, eyes narrowed and all fired up, "Don't hurt my friends you jerk!" She sprang off her strong legs into the air, flipped forward, and came down on the armor, scratching at the face-like breastplate with the full furry of her front claws while holding tightly around its waist with the back claws.  
  
The helmet of the armor animated itself and began flying forward, heading directly for an attack on Felicia from behind, but Talbain used his Beast Cannon to knock it off course and into the side of a large rock.  
  
Talbain stanced with a grin and waved his pointer finger back and forth, "Can't you be a little more creative demon? I thought you'd be ready when the time came, but it seems to haven't gotten any stronger and now I'm going to finish you."  
  
At that moment, the formerly exhausted Aulbath sprang off the ground, grabbing himself around the back of the armor and digging his hands and feet into the plating.  
  
The horrible face appeared inside the now disembodied helmet of The Hannya, "What is this? It's you! Jon! I'll kill you and feast on your innards, hahahahaha!!!"  
  
"Sorry, I don't see it that way", Talbain grinned, beginning to transform and show his razor sharp fangs, "You should've killed me when you had the chance because now I'm not going to return the favor. You've killed too many people."  
  
The armor struggled, but Aulbath and Felicia were holding it fast, doing as much damage as they possibly could to it while keeping it in place.  
  
Talbain looked to Quatos, his lupine eyes narrowed, "That's your cue big guy." The Sasquatch leapt up, puffing out his chest to ignore the wound in it, and swung his fist round and round in the air, creating a massive, typhoon like force.  
  
Quatos beady red eyes flashed, "EVERYBODY MOVE!!!" Felicia and Aulbath did as they were told, and Talbain jumped behind a rock. The mountain behemoth let the Typhoon Fist Attack go, knocking The Hannya over the side of the mountain, helmet and all, and screaming all the way down, down, down through the thick mists below.  
  
Quatos fell over for real, exhaling deep and holding his chest where the cut had gone in, "Leave me behind. I will go back to nature as intended."  
  
Aulbath ran over, slinging his friend over his back with a groan, "No way! I'm going to take you back so you can get the hero's welcome you deserve!"  
  
Before he could protest, Quatos passed out. Aulbath looked to the others, "A little help here?" Talbain and Felicia rushed to his side, helping carry their big friend back to the only home he'd ever known: Sasquatch Village.  
  
Unbeknownst to them, a figure was watching. The medium-sized, lean- built oriental man had short brown hair and wore the trappings of a wandering samurai with no armor, a traveling hat made of bamboo, and carried a walking stick.  
  
His ice blue eyes teared up as a wind whipped around him, "Thank you."  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	7. Episode 7: The Treasure Of Castle Gerden...

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE SEVEN: THE TREASURE OF GERDENHEIM CASTLE  
  
The sky was shrouded in the blackest storm that afternoon. Lightning raced from thunderhead to thunderhead as a mist covered the land, prelude a perpetual battle between pouring rain and fierce, howling winds accompanied by rolling thunder.  
  
Upon a high, narrow cliff that stretched over a little Romanian town stood the castle Zetzereich, and within the highest balcony of the highest window of the highest tower stood a tall, muscular figure, eyes flashing like unto the lightning as his regal cape blew rapidly in the mighty winds.  
  
A dark smile crossed the lips of Lord Demitri Maximoff, undisputed master of all he surveyed and soon-to-be master of all Makai. "Such a lovely day", he mused in that deep, rich tone of his.  
  
The vampire lord strode inside the palace via the balcony, a bounce in his step not normally present. The room within was elegantly decorated with all the things that could not harm him. Fountains of running red water being poured by statues of equally statuesque women were among the room's décor as well as lovely pillars decorated with the holy symbols that would repel most vampires. Garlic grew in a small garden to one side; rather than be repulsed by it, Demitri found it quite sensuous if not eaten, for that gave a person the most horrible odor to their breath.  
  
And then there was the mirror. In addition to being able to gaze upon his own reflection as the demon, Demitri had kept the elegantly ruby studded silver mirror about for its magical properties, for it could allow him to gaze at any place as large as a field to as small as a room in all of Romania.  
  
Yes, it was true. The only thing that could even harm the dark lord, who had been fast enough to avoid wooden stakes long before he became a vampire, was the pure light of the sun, and today not even that could deter him from his wanderings.  
  
The normally cross-tempered nobleman could barely keep from cackling as he reached for a book that a spy had brought to him one week prior. The book was actually the remnants of the lost works of one Schloss Von Gerdenheim, a brilliant biophysics professor who may have discovered the secret to what the book described as a hidden gate between the world of the living and the world of the dead.  
  
"Could this be the key to Makai, and my revenge?" Demitri leaned his head over his fist as he read, "Yes, I see. This book enclosed not the key, but the key to the key: the location of Castle Gerdenheim is in Germany."  
  
Just then, an elderly vampire in a gray Civil War era coat walked into the room, "Lord Demitri, we have just received word of a disturbance in the Middle East which you may find most intriguing."  
  
Demitri only chuckled, "Let it be dealt with on its' own. I have more pressing matters at stake. Namely, my revenge against Belial Aensland and his own."  
  
The Prince of Darkness made a gallant bow, and spun his cape around him, springing back off the balcony. As he fell seemingly down forever, he assumed his bat form and let his wings guide him upward to soar through the air.  
  
SWISS MOUNTANIA  
  
The same storm that had enshrouded Romania in darkness extended even over to the German Alps. Near the back, well out of sight, lay a castle laboratory etched into the mountains themselves. All that could truly be seen of the castle from the top level, which the room of had been mostly destroyed in some terrible accident, were high ruined stone walls, a white and black checkered floor, and a great mechanical monstrosity, which appeared much like an electric charge beam cannon.  
  
There was, however, one person who knew the way all too well. Lord Maximoff landed feet first in front of the short, narrow pathway to the laboratory, seemingly inaccessible were it not for flight. As he resumed his vampiric form, his wings dropped, becoming a regal, deep blue and red cape once more.  
  
"So this is Castle Gerdenheim", he said with a look utterly lacking in compassion, "How very nondescript. Perhaps this camouflage was part of the doctor's brilliance."  
  
Demitri trudged up the stone pathway. He could have flown in and saved himself the trouble, but on a day like this why spoil a good walk? He easily made it to the edge of the castle and found his way around to a large portcullis gate in front. Smiling at the pathetic attempt at a door, the dark lord simply kicked it down.  
  
The crash of the door, however, had invited the wrath of the castle's guardian. The guardian's pale eyes snapped open and he let out an unearthly wail of suffering, spring from his bed deep within the lower levels of the castle and running up the stairs to the main level with unearthly speed.  
  
Demitri now gazed upon the guardian. An eight-foot 'man' seemingly composed of the flesh of various blue-skinned corpses all stitched together into a composite whole along with several metallic implants stood before him wearing a torn olive green jacket, earth-brown trousers, and brown leather boots. The figure also had spiked blonde hair, which made his grotesque form seem a bit more pleasing to the eyes.  
  
The guardian outstretched his hand. "Be gone", he bellowed in his deep, haunting voice, which echoed from wall to wall and out into the stormy sky above.  
  
Demitri grinned to this, "Obviously we have not met. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Lord Demitri Maximoff, the scourge of Romania."  
  
The guardian narrowed his eyes, which had deep circles under them, "I am Victor Von Gerdenheim, and you are an invader in my house. Get out!" The bizarre creature thrust his hand back, then forward, making a low growling grunt that echoed as his fist fired forward a beam of electricity at its' target: Lord Demitri.  
  
The beam hit Demitri head on. He did not even attempt to dodge it. When the light faded, his face was badly burned, but strangely, it healed within five seconds. Demitri merely laughed at this, "You are bold. However, you are also pathetically weak and therefore not worthy to be my enemy. Prepare to be taught a lesson."  
  
Victor snarled, "You think you can come into my house and threaten me? It is YOU who will be taught a lesson! I'll destroy you for destroying what I value most: the peace and tranquility of my father's house!"  
  
Demitri threw his head back, laughing long and loud, "What folly! Your ego exceeds the limits of your oversized form. If the only attacks you are capable of 'generating' are electric shock bursts, then you have no chance against the likes of me. Please, allow me to demonstrate the error of your ways."  
  
Victor went to stance only to find that his enemy had disappeared for a moment only to randomly appear in front. The vampire's hand reached up in a 'lightning' punch to the castle guardian's jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.  
  
Victor started to get up, but as he opened his eyes, he saw that Demitri was already standing above him, hands on hips, glowering. The dark lord bent down, picking up the giant by his collar and bringing him eye level so he could smirk at him.  
  
Gerdenheim narrowed his eyes, "I will not fall to you, now or ever." He reached around the considerably smaller nobleman with both arms in a strangling bear hug and began to charge electricity down his arms at 500,000 volts per second.  
  
Demitri had taken the initial electric shock of the same voltage for roughly five seconds and only sustained minor damage, but now the hold which Victor had on him forced him to remain there, taking it, unable to break away.  
  
Maximoff struggled, unable to think to use any other power in his repertoire as massive currents of searing voltage coursed through his brain. It was to no avail: while he was powerful indeed, this contest was not won by skill but brute strength, and in that department most competitors pale in comparison with Victor Von Gerdenheim.  
  
Finally, desperate and nearing unconsciousness, Demitri did something drastic that might well have made his entire cause for coming to this place lost. He assumed his bat form, unleashing a powerful aura technique known simply as "Let Go Of Me". True to its' name, the attack literally throws an opponent back from the caster at insane speeds that do massive damage upon the victim's impact with virtually anything.  
  
The attack had gone off without a hitch, and as the bright ruby light generated by it faded into obscurity, a helpless Victor clung to life at the edge of the cliffs outside the castle, his home, the estate of the Gerdenheim 'family'. He was defeated.  
  
Demitri resumed his vampire form, slowly healing and then walking to Victor, picking him up with an arm, and holding him in the air. "Where is the book!" he snarled, "Where is the book containing Professor Gerdenheim's secret gate!"  
  
Victor made a small noise, deep in his throat. Gradually, it became audible enough to notice what he was doing: he was laughing.  
  
Demitri narrowed his eyes into slits, "You laugh? Why!"  
  
Victor bellowed with laughter, "Because you are a fool! You and every demon who comes here wanting 'the gate' between life and death. Emily told me, ha ha, it is just an expression. The gate was me! Ha ha ha!"  
  
Demitri's eyes flashed with murderous rage, "I'll kill you!"  
  
"No you won't, vampire", a deep, young, almost poetic voice called out from somewhere off to the side. Demitri looked around to see a man a bit taller than himself, extremely well muscled in a half-robe toga sporting gold and red colors and a light blue sash tied around the waist. The man also sported a string of large stone beads as a bandolier around his chest at the shoulder and various jewelry.  
  
The long, beautiful brown hair surrounded a face wracked with the sort of suffering that breeds the grim determination to be found in his dark eyes. Those eyes paralyzed a man where he stood, showing even under his bronze traveling hat.  
  
Most notable, perhaps, was the sword upon the individuals' back. The large blade appeared to have eyes carved into it: glowing red intelligent eyes.  
  
Demitri threw Victor aside and placed a hand across his chest, bowing his head respectfully before taking a stand, throwing his cape to the side luxuriantly and smiling, "A darkhunter: how deliciously predictable! What can be your reason for wanting to destroy me? Did a vampire kill your family perhaps? Are you yourself of dark blood? Or perhaps it is that you, like I, enjoy the exhilaration of battle for its own sake. Whatever your reason, I gladly accept your challenge!"  
  
The monk threw aside his hat, waving his hand. His sword obeyed the direct command and flew through the air over his shoulder and into his hand. The figure narrowed his eyes at Demitri, "I come only to kill you. No reason given."  
  
Demitri's smile faded, "How long must I deal with this insolence! I"  
  
Before the royal vampire could finish, he saw a bright light before him. The monk had pulled back his sword, made a small chant, and the shape of a spirit in flames appeared above the sword. The blade fired the attack, massive line of fire, forward at the target, striking him before he had a chance to dodge it.  
  
Demitri was knocked from the mountain, ironically over the exact point where moments earlier he had nearly destroyed another life. His eyes were wide as he fell down, down, down through the clouds and still fell, crashing on the rocks below.  
  
Now bloodied and broken, the dark lord closed his bruised eyes. The process of healing his body, while inconvenient, would be short-lived. Nursing his ego, now bruised at being so handily defeated, would take much longer, and even worse, the very thing he had come after appeared have never existed at all.  
  
Victor slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on an operating table. The monk and his sister Emily, a young girl with blonde pigtails and fair skin, stood over him.  
  
Emily smiled at seeing him sit up, "Brother! You're awake!"  
  
Victor smiled warmly at her, and then looked to the monk, "My thanks."  
  
The monk had his back turned and was looking towards the sky beyond. He slowly turned to face Victor, his eyes full of a look that mingled compassion with grave warning, "Because of the darkness in my blood, I will fight forever both outside and inside against evil. One half of me wishes to save this world, and the other to bury it in madness. But in you I see no evil, despite your powers. You are untainted by the dark, and a soul like that I would not see destroyed before it does this world good."  
  
The monk turned his back once more, this time walking outwards and onwards toward whatever lay ahead from him. Victor watched him as went, the most thoughtful look in his normally dull eyes.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	8. Episode 8: Girl Of My Nightmares

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE EIGHT: GIRL OF MY NIGHTMARES  
  
Two figured were running up over the concrete hill. One was a young, brunette femme fatale and the other a silver-haired hunk of a man. Both were dressed for jogging, completely oblivious to the fact that members of both sexes stared them down as they ran by, simply continuing their own training.  
  
"You've gotten faster", Talbain grinned.  
  
"So ya noticed eh?", Officer Makabaya smiled to her old friend.  
  
Talbain turned to look just in time to skid to a stop in front of a woman with long, mint-green hair and fair skin in a sparkling black dress. She was standing in the road for no apparent reason.  
  
Tasha stepped forward, "Ma'am, you're obstructing traffic in the middle of the street like that. I'll have to ask you to get moving."  
  
The woman looked to her with eyes the most unearthly teal color, her voice a sultry echo, "Sorry Officer, would you care to run that by me again?"  
  
Tasha's eyes glazed over, then shut slowly as she passed out on the spot.  
  
Talbain stepped forward, eyes narrowed, "What have you done!"  
  
The woman flipped a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled to him, "You're different from most, Mr. Talbain. You I could have some fun with."  
  
As Talbain stanced, he saw the woman dash beside him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened for a moment, then closed as he fell unconscious.  
  
Neither sleeping victim saw the woman exit, a shadow in the afternoon sun.  
  
There was a knock at the door. Felicia's ears perked as she lied there on the couch and she got up to go answer it. When she opened the door, a green skinned amphibian creature wearing a straw hat looked up.  
  
The creature's stormy blue eyes shined happily, "Board and bread por favor?"  
  
In no time Felicia and "Rick" were sitting around having chili. Aulbath was shoveling it in, "You know, the only chili I've ever had is in my home, and it's nothing like American chili Felicia."  
  
Felicia grinned, "Oh really? What's it like?"  
  
Aulbath winced, "Let's just say it puts the "h"ell in "h"ot."  
  
Felicia giggled, "So what have you been up to all this time?"  
  
Aulbath leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms behind his head, "Well, I've done some traveling around the Americas since I had to go that way down from Canada to get home anyway. You have a beautiful country and I'm heartily sorry so many people don't appreciate it for the paradise it is."  
  
Felicia leaned forward a bit, "You seem to have some strong views on nature."  
  
Aulbath nodded, his blue eyes staring gravely into hers, "Take this deal with polluting the water. What's up with that? We all came from the sea and we'll all go back to it one day, so if I were them, I'd treat it with respect. Besides, it's my home and you have no idea how nasty it is to accidentally swim through sewage drain-off."  
  
Felicia nodded a little, "I see where you're coming from. They dump that trash on the land too and it stinks to high heaven, but we all try to just coexist in the city. Maybe there's some way you can work out a deal with these corporate bigwigs."  
  
Aulbath crossed his arms and looked askance, "You've got a good heart Felicia, but not everyone shares your optimism for peace. Some people want there to be trouble."  
  
Felicia's ears drooped, then she randomly got perky again, "Whelp! That's why the ones like us have to stand up and cry out for peace! If we cry loud enough, for long enough, those guys have no choice but to pay attention, am I right?"  
  
Just then, the door kicked open. Officer Makabaya stood there, soaked with the rain that had started up outside, carrying a still unconscious Talbain in her tired arms. She looked to Felicia who was getting up, "Get him to the couch!"  
  
Talbain lay helpless on the couch, feet elevated and eyes closed. Tasha, Felicia, and Aulbath all sat around him, looking to each other.  
  
"How did this happen", Felicia spoke up.  
  
"I don't know how to explain it", Tasha admitted, "We were jogging and this woman showed up and before we knew it we were out. I woke up, but she must've done something to Johnny. He won't wake for anything."  
  
Aulbath was looking him over, "Pulse is normal and his breathing is slow. If I didn't know better, I'd say the poor guy's in a coma."  
  
Felicia's voice was quivering, "That can't be. He's stronger than that."  
  
Tasha looked to Talbain, then Felicia, "Yes, Jon Talbain is strong, but nobody's invincible. I don't know what happened because I didn't see it, but I'm telling you, that woman did something to me and I know she did something to him."  
  
Talbain opened his eyes, sitting up with a groan, and started to look at the room around him. Everything was black and that black seemed to go on forever except for the floor below him, which appeared to be a bright red.  
  
"How do you like the new décor", a woman's sensual voice whispered softly through the air above, "I know it's your brain, but you weren't awake enough to ask, and I thought the place could use a woman's touch."  
  
"What have you done to me", Talbain snarled.  
  
The woman laughed a bit, "I've given you something no one else can, Jon Talbain: a chance to look deep inside yourself where you can't go except when you sleep, yet made you completely aware of your surroundings."  
  
"Thanks but no thanks", Talbain said bluntly, "Some things are best left unknown for the good of a person's sanity."  
  
Directly before him, a woman appeared. She was none other than the same noblewoman that Demitri himself had encountered at his castle. "Oh, don't spoil my fun Jon", she grinned lustfully, "The night is young and we have much to do."  
  
Talbain's eyes flashed, "I'd had enough of your games, now I demand you let me out", he stopped, stunned, as he reached out a white furry claw to her. He didn't remember transforming, but as he looked down, he obviously had.  
  
Talbain shook off the shock, trying to transform back into himself again as he had done for so long, but something was wrong. He couldn't make it happen. Jon narrowed his eyes to the woman, "What have you done now, sorceress?"  
  
The woman laughed again, "I've done exactly what I said I had. I give you the real Jonathan Talbain Kreutz: a werewolf, and a darkstalker."  
  
Tasha and Aulbath were going over a method to combine sea magic with traditional paramedic procedures to pull off a revival attempt.  
  
Meanwhile, Felicia was going out of her gourd with worry. She bent down beside Talbain and held his hand in her paw, her eyes wet, "Please be ok Jon."  
  
Jon shook where he stood, "What did you say?"  
  
The woman walked closed to him, and he stepped back, "You know what I said. You're a darkstalker just like me, and extremely powerful for a mere werewolf."  
  
Jon lowered his brows, "I meant the second part. That name."  
  
The woman nodded, "It's your father's name, Jonathan."  
  
Talbain bared his fangs, "How do you know so much about me."  
  
The woman smiled again, "Let me introduce myself properly. I am Lady Morrigan Aensland, the daughter of Belial Aensland the Demon King. I know lots of things about you, but mostly about your father."  
  
Talbain's face softened, "Can you tell me about my father?"  
  
Morrigan nodded slowly, "Yes, but for a price."  
  
Talbain winced. He had to know the truth. Knowing his father was a privilege he had never gotten as a child, and this Kreutz guy might be the answer to everything he had ever wondered about himself. "What do you want", he asked reluctantly.  
  
"Easy", Morrigan grinned seductively, "I want -you-."  
  
Tasha was monitoring Talbain for a while. She had insisted that Felicia get out of the house for a second and clear her head so she didn't panic. Aulbath had gone with her and they were talking out on the stoop.  
  
"Can I tell you something if you promise never to tell", Felicia asked.  
  
Aulbath nodded, "I've never had trouble guarding secrets."  
  
Felicia looked down and blushed, "I can't lose Talbain, I just can't. It's not just that he's my friend you see. I think there might be more."  
  
Aulbath smiled, "Ah, it is so clear to me now. You love him."  
  
Felicia was red, but nodded.  
  
Aulbath put a webbed hand on her shoulder, "This is nothing to be ashamed of, dear Felicia. Love is a wonderful thing, but I must ask, why have you not told him?"  
  
Felicia looked up, surprised, "You don't just blurt that stuff out!"  
  
Aulbath laughed, "You Americans have strange customs. In Brazil, when a woman loves a man, she tells him, and vice versa, and they get married, have kids, and start a wonderful life together. I myself met a woman during my journeys and she waits for me at home, which is why I must get back to the Amazon. Her name is Aquaria."  
  
Felicia smiled, "That sounds wonderful. You know, you're right. But now it might be too late." She looked toward the door with concern, "Oh please wake up."  
  
Jon blinked, "What do you mean you want 'me'?"  
  
Morrigan leaned over him a bit, looking directly into his eyes, "In you I see a strong man with a strong will. I find that attractive so I want you for myself."  
  
Those eyes are so beautiful, Jon thought, and for a moment he was tempted to be taken in by this beautiful stranger who held the key to all he thought he wanted.  
  
Then, as he had a second thought, he realized to his horror he had been living a lie, and everything he had ever wanted was right there in front of him, but he had always been too wrapped up in himself to say anything.  
  
Morrigan leaned in as their gazes locked, wanting a kiss, but Talbain shoved her away and stanced, "No! My heart is with another!"  
  
Morrigan felt the pain of being slapped alright, but not physically. The werewolf had hurt her in her most vulnerable area. She slowly picked herself up, and quivered with rage. "Go then", she said bitterly, "Get out of my sight!"  
  
Jon's eyes slowly opened. Tasha was standing over him, checking his pulse. He looked up at her, "Where am I?"  
  
Tasha looked to him and smiled warmly, "You're home Johnny."  
  
Just then Felicia and Aulbath walked in.  
  
Tasha heard the door and looked to them with a grin, "Just woke up."  
  
Felicia didn't waste any time, she ran past Tasha and made over Talbain, making sure he was in one piece, "Oh I was so worried! What happened to you! Are you okay? Please say something to me Jon!"  
  
Jon put a finger to her lips and smiled, "I love you too."  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	9. Episode 9: The City VS Jon Talbain

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE NINE: THE CITY VS JON TALBAIN  
  
It was to be a busy day for the city of Pasadena, California. It was Election Day to be precise. The crowd of onlookers, easily thousands, had gathered right out on Main Street, which had been closed off for the ceremony.  
  
A stretch limo pulled up, the black chrome and silver paintjob shining in the sun as a door slide open and a man in a suit stepped out. The crowd roared with cheers as former Mayor Stevenson held up his hand in a victory "V" sign.  
  
The former mayor had been a favorite both publicly and politically. He was the hometown celebrity and he enjoyed every minute of it.  
  
Somewhere in the crowd, a new resident of the city had turned out just to catch a glimpse of how politics were run here. He was legally known as Mr. J. Talbain.  
  
Stevenson walked up to the podium, ready to give his speech, but before he made it, something that no one could have predicted happened. A shadowy form whirred by, and the mayor fell.  
  
Someone in the crowd screamed. By the time the police showed up, sirens blazing and accompanied by the paramedics, a commotion had overtaken the crowd, though most of them simply stood in shock, unable to turn their eyes away.  
  
The medics loaded the mayor's body on the stretcher and into the ambulance, but as one of them looked at his watch, it became clear that was a formality at this point.  
  
Talbain was stunned, but only for a moment. He pushed through as best he could to the front of the crowd, still shaking at what he had seen.  
  
Unbeknownst to him, somebody had noticed his presence, and that would prove to be the beginning of his own personal nightmare. "Werewolf!" a man's voice called out. A man with curly blonde hair in a red suit pointed towards Jon, "That one! I saw him transform a month ago! He must be the killer!"  
  
Talbain looked around helplessly at the countless faces glowering at him. Two officers walked up to him and neither looked happy. One of them, a tall black man, stepped behind him, "Put your hands behind your back, darkstalker."  
  
Talbain didn't want any trouble, especially at this point, and his face drenched with sweat, he did as told. The officer cuffed him, "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in th-."  
  
Talbain was sitting in a cell at the station. He had been stripped of his clothes and belongings for evidence, and the combination of the cold steel door and the thick cement walls made it impossible for even him to hear what was going on outside aside from the occasional sounds of footsteps or voices.  
  
Finally, the cell door opened with a screech and a slam. An officer of the law that Jon recognized all to well was standing there, looking at him with pity. "This is more of you than I ever expected to see Johnny", Officer Makabaya admitted.  
  
Jon was sitting inside a Plexiglas office with a locked door, now in a crappy beige jumpsuit. Officer Makabaya sat across from him. She was gravely concerned, "Jon, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what happened."  
  
Talbain looked up at her pathetically, "I did nothing wrong. You know I wouldn't lie to you. But someone or something did kill Mayor Stevenson."  
  
Tasha nodded, "That much I got from the report. Did you get a good look at it by any chance? If you can identify the murderer, I can maybe get you off as a witness."  
  
Talbain lowered his head, "Just a flash of dark energy, then nothing."  
  
Tasha bit her lip, "That's not going to convince my superiors." She stood up and turned to exit, then looked back at him, "I will get you off the hook, but it's going to take me some time and detective work, so hold out while I'm gone ok?"  
  
Talbain said nothing: he simply kept his head hung as she left.  
  
"GET IN THERE!" Talbain slammed against the wall of the concrete cell as the metal door slammed shut behind him. He sat down, back against the wall, and stared out the single window in the door through which the light shone on him. He had already begun forming a plan to clear his name.  
  
Minutes turned into hours, and every creeping hour was an eternity of hell: cold, cruel loneliness that left him wondering how much longer his sanity would hold out.  
  
Finally, some time after time itself had lost all meaning, the cell door opened. A guard looked to him with a grimace, "You have a visitor."  
  
Talbain's eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden bright lights and he winced them as he entered the room with the guard. When Jon saw who was waiting for him, he looked away, unable to face her, "Hello Felicia."  
  
Felicia started to walk to him, but the guard stood in the way, "Sorry ma'am. The prisoners and visitors aren't allowed to touch for the safety of the visitors."  
  
Felicia wanted to say, "Don't you mean for the safety of all you darkstalker fearing humans", but she kept her mouth shut and nodded. Talbain and Felicia sat on opposite sides of a desk and looked into each other's eyes.  
  
Felicia looked at him with utmost concern, "Anything I can do?"  
  
Jon sighed, "Not unless they'll allow you to give me a beer and a bullet to the head. Please, don't look at me like this: I'm not supposed to be a criminal."  
  
Felicia looked a bit cross, "Well newsflash: you're NOT. I hope they haven't broken you down in that dungeon because you're the last person I ever thought I'd see crack. Tasha's doing her best. We all are. You've got to be strong. For me!"  
  
Talbain looked up at her for the last part, "I might be bad for you."  
  
Felicia only grinned, "I'm attracted to that whole 'bad boy' thing."  
  
The guard stepped forward, "It's time."  
  
Talbain nodded, and stood to follow the guard out, but turned back to Felicia, "I will wait for you. They can't break this." He returned the smile.  
  
Talbain sat at the lunch table eating his soup. Or maybe it was a casserole. Well, whatever the stuff was it was god-awful but he hadn't eaten since yesterday and he wasn't going to be picky about it as long as his belly was full.  
  
Someone walked by, slamming his face down into the bowl and laughing a deep, hearty laugh. Jon looked up to see a large man with a beard.  
  
The man grinned down at him with golden teeth, "Got a problem shrimp?"  
  
Talbain snapped, "Only that I'd like to rip off your oversized balls and shove them down your throat human." His eyes flashed yellow.  
  
The man backed away, "Woah! I was clownin' dawgz!"  
  
The guards saw it and walked up, grabbing Talbain by the arms and restraining him. He could have easily handled them, but the shine of their badges caught his attention and he settled down, remembering he had to prove his innocence.  
  
As the guards slammed him up against a cold, hard wall he closed his eyes, "I give: I'll go quietly."  
  
Later that day, as he was sitting alone in his cell, the door opened and a pair of guards stood outside it, "Come with us, Mr. Talbain."  
  
Talbain stood up and followed them. The walk seemed to go on forever though through various areas of the police station. Finally, they stopped in a back room and motioned for Talbain to go inside.  
  
Again, Talbain did as told and he heard the door slam and lock behind him. He turned to face the two guards. They were grinning at him.  
  
One guard cracked his knuckles, "So you think you're better than us, werewolf?"  
  
The other guard pulled out a silver gun, "Let's see how good you are now."  
  
Talbain's eyes widened, "Back off!"  
  
The guards walked forward at him, "We make the rules here."  
  
Three shots fired. The smoke cleared and one of the guards was choking, Talbain's arm around his neck. "Get me out or I'll snap it", he growled low.  
  
That evening, a lone figure stood on a hill exiting the city and into the country beyond: the county of Claysburg. Talbain took a look at his tattered jumpsuit, then one last look at the city he would leave forever, "Goodbye Felicia. Someday, we'll have our chance. Someday, when all your dreams of peace come true."  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	10. Episode 10: The Way Of The Monk

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE TEN: THE WAY OF THE MONK  
  
In a small shack deep in the woodland mountains sat a lone figure. Exiled from his last home by the atrocious racism of men, he now called the land his home. His days were long with meditation on what might have been and what was to come. The martial arts master and werewolf Jon Talbain had hit an all-time low in his life.  
  
That morning the sunrise was golden, but it only raised red in his bleeding heart. Every day was a trial just to live with himself and what had happened. Birds sung what he believed to be a prelude to his funeral dirge. He had come to nature to die.  
  
His grim meditation was interrupted by the sound of a large metallic traveling hat crashing to the ground, followed by the crashing of a sword stabbing into that ground. Talbain looked up to see a well-muscled silhouette leaning on the sword, his braided brown hair blowing in the wind.  
  
Talbain looked fierce, "What do you want of me?"  
  
The man leered down at him, "What do -you- want of you?"  
  
Talbain looked away. He couldn't answer that. "You are a hunter", he acknowledged, "If you've come to kill me go ahead. It would be a favor."  
  
Talbain felt a sharp elbow to his chin, sending him crashing onto his back. The man stood over him, "I did not come to kill you. I came to teach you how to live."  
  
The next morning, Jon was lying around the house, half-drunk from the night before. The humbling experience from the morning before had led to an even more humbling day. The hunter had explained that he was a monk and that he only hunted down those who could not coexist peacefully with the world around them.  
  
He remembered clearly what the man had said, "I give you two options, Jon Talbain: live a hero or die a coward. I will not watch you waste away any longer." Talbain realized then and there he could not die yet: he had to live for Felicia.  
  
The monk's 'training' was brutal. Talbain had never trained this rigorously in his life, not even for his strong body. There was the usual weight training, kung fu sparring matches (although the monk often injected eastern Indian techniques), and the balance tests like before, but these were in addition to the meditation: the hardest part.  
  
Jon had often meditated on his own, but the way this monk did it was completely alien to the ponderous thinking sessions he was used to. In these meditations, the monk would play a game with him called You Tell, I Tell. In this game, he would tell the monk something about himself, and in return the monk would reveal something about himself. It was meant to build trust between the two as well as respect and understanding.  
  
Talbain had learned this much over the course of three days: the monk's name was Donovan Baine, he was a Damphir which is a half-breed cross between a vampire and a gypsy magician, and he hunted the dark to justify his own existence.  
  
In addition, Talbain had told the monk that his real last name was Kreutz, that he was born a werewolf because via his father's blood, and that he had trained his entire life to be able to control his shape but the beast often took him over anyway.  
  
The harshest part of the training was the revealing, because Talbain had always been one to stand alone. The only one he had ever told his intimate secrets to was Felicia, and only her because he wanted to be with her forever. He could still remember that night after he woke up from the coma:  
  
Aulbath was sleeping on the couch and Officer Makabaya had long since gone home for the evening: she had work tomorrow. The house was quiet and dark.  
  
Alone in her room, Felicia sat beside a very special friend: the indispensable Jon Talbain, who only hours ago had admitted he loved her as much as she did him.  
  
They had talked for most of that time, telling each other everything. Felicia talked about being raised an orphan among several other catgirls who became her 'sisters'. Talbain talked about growing up alone in the woods, training day after day so that one day he could be free of his curse. Felicia had told him it wasn't a curse, but a wonderful opportunity for him to do good in the world.  
  
Talk seemed so cheap, and finally it just wasn't enough anymore. They looked into each other's eyes for the longest time before Talbain finally reached up, cupped her face gently in his hands, and whispered, "I don't know how long it will take, but I will be the hero you see in me. Will you wait for me?" She slowly nodded, her eyes wet.  
  
They had lost all sense of space and drifted together, their faces inches from one another. Finally, Talbain made the first move, and they shared a kiss for the books.  
  
"This woman, Felicia, do you love her?"  
  
Talbain looked up, "Of course I do."  
  
Donovan looked at him with the eyes of an ancient, "They why do you wait."  
  
"I don't understand what you mean", Talbain admitted quietly.  
  
Donovan was calm as usual, "You cannot know what it is like to truly be unloved. Yes, you are of cursed blood, but you have been supported for most of your life: by your students, by your friends, and now by the woman you would call your lover. If you love her, by God, go to her and never look back at this horrible place or time."  
  
Talbain winced, "I can't go back. My purpose will be lost if I'm dead."  
  
Donovan slammed a fist beside Talbain's head on the wall before the werewolf could think to react and stared deep into his eyes, "Hear this my young friend. The true measure of a hero's courage is not whether he is afraid, but whether or not he can face his destiny in spite of that fear. If your fate is to die, you will die. However, if your fate is to live, then look at all you have been missing in life."  
  
Talbain's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed, "You speak the truth."  
  
Donovan stood up, "Then have you made your decision?"  
  
Talbain nodded, "I'm going back, but it won't be easy."  
  
Donovan turned to leave the shack, "Most worthwhile things never are."  
  
That evening, at the city limit sign to Pasadena, a lone figure stood ready. Ready for the laughter. Ready for the tears. Ready, at last, to live the way a hero lives.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	11. Episode 11: Trial of the Wolf

"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE ELEVEN: TRIAL OF THE WOLF  
  
In moments, the trial of Jon Talbain VS The City of Pasadena would take place. The witnesses, the attorneys (both a defense and prosecuting lawyer by demand of the darkstalker community, who had insisting on defending one of their own. It seemed Talbain had become something of a civil rights hero in the last week), a jury of both darkstalker and human participants, and a judge who was known for his impartial, by the book approach had all been gathered. It seemed the only two figures missing from the case were the plaintiff, a dead man, and the defendant, a dead man walking.  
  
Felicia stood outside the courtroom with Tasha and Aulbath. They had all volunteered themselves as character witnesses on the werewolf's behalf, but the prosecutor had objected to the movement, saying that a case this delicate required only witnesses who had been to the scene of the crime. They did not qualify.  
  
As Felicia's head hung in despair for what she knew would be a losing verdict, a white furry hand rested on her shoulder. "It will all work out", a familiar voice said.  
  
Felicia's eyes widened as she turned around and embraced the one man she wanted to see more than anyone, "Jon! You came! You came I knew you would!"  
  
Talbain only nodded with a smile, that knowing look in his eyes, "At the jail, there's a tape for room 37 taken on the evening of the 12th." Felicia nodded.  
  
He walked on past and up the stairs approaching the guards at the front, "The defendant is present."  
  
The guards recognized him on sight and he willingly went inside, cuffed, without putting up a fight. Even in wolf form, he seemed perfectly in control of himself.  
  
The courtroom was all brown mahogany wood with a carpeted floor, a flag of the United States as well as the state flag, a white sheetrock wall, and a lot of chairs.  
  
The prosecutor sat in place: a man with red hair and a red suit. His nametag read "W.J. Ewing" and his cold, bitter stare was unmistakable.  
  
The defender was Attorney Rev. Joel Santana, a masterful attorney with a long background in theology and lore. He leaned over to Talbain with a serious look behind his round spectacles, "This is going to go a lot smoother now that you've decided to show up in wolf form. That was a brilliant move on your part Mr. Talbain."  
  
The judge stood and the bailiff called, "All rise for the honorable Judge Mugen."  
  
The congregation rose silently, and then sat.  
  
The bailiff handed the notes to the judge, "Defendant, who has listed himself legally as Jonathan Talbain Kreutz by law of his home plane Makai-"  
  
The crowd let out a gasp. At this time the not-so-secret invasions from Makai had become a topic of household conversation. The judge banged his gavel down, "Order!"  
  
The crowd grew silent and the bailiff continued, "-Is accused of the murder of Former Mayor Stevenson in the first degree."  
  
The judge looked to the prosecutor, "Based on the delicate nature of this situation, I have deemed it appropriate for a minor switch of order. In other words, I'd like to follow the bad news with some good news. Please begin, Mr. Ewing."  
  
Ewing stood and nodded, turning to the jury, "Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I will be attempting to give you the undeniable proof that the accused did indeed murder Former Mayor Stevenson on Election Day. This case will be based upon actual testimony of persons present as well as evidence found at the crime scene."  
  
He looked to the judge, "Permission to proceed, Your Honor?"  
  
Judge Mugen nodded, "You may continue, Mr. Ewing."  
  
Ewing gazed upon the crowd, "I call my first witness to the stand: Julius Greensburg. Mr. Greensburg, please approach the stand."  
  
As Greensburg, a fat middle-aged man, stood by the witness box, he placed his hand upon the bible and raised the other as the bailiff swore him in, then took the box.  
  
Ewing stood in front of him, "Is it true, Mr. Greensburg, that you were indeed present on the day of the alleged murder?" Greensburg nodded, "Yes."  
  
Ewing nodded, "Is it also true that you are a resident voter of the city of Pasadena and have been for over thirty years, Mr. Greensburg?" Greensburg nodded again, "Yes."  
  
Ewing smiled, "Then please, Sir, can you give the ladies and gentlemen of the jury your most accurate testimony of the events of Election Day?"  
  
Greensburg cleared his throat, "That morning I got up just like every other voter planning to attend, got dressed, ate my breakfast, and went out the door. It was very crowded and hard to see, but I was watching for Mayor Stevenson just like everyone else and when he arrived we all cheered. He was inches from the podium when something just blasted by and the Mayor was dead."  
  
Ewing nodded, "Most of the parties present at Election Day likely remember something very similar to that, wouldn't you agree Mr. Greensburg?"  
  
Greensburg blinked, "Those that saw it, yeah."  
  
Ewing smiled to the Defense Attorney tauntingly, "No more questions."  
  
Tasha, who was able to obtain a key on official police business, the nature of which she could not state because it would blow her cover, had taken Felicia into the jail. The other officers trusted her and simply gave her the key.  
  
Felicia had gone back with Tasha and was looking around with her cat eyes for some means by which she could find the tape. She finally looked it up in a system of numbers that Tasha showed her, able to see it rather easily.  
  
The reason they hadn't turned on the lights was simple. Felicia really was undercover on this mission: under cover of darkness. This way the lights in the room wouldn't allow the security cameras to pick her up, because she had learned a few tricks from her cat sisters about using her Makai-related blood to change her temperature. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the only way the infrared cameras could pick her up now.  
  
Once the tape was acquired, Tasha hid it in a backpack and they were off.  
  
Mr. Santana stood to cross-examine the witness, approaching him, "Mr. Greensburg, do you agree that it is well known that demonic eyes often if not always surpass the limits of human vision?"  
  
Greensburg nodded firmly, "They can see even at night I hear sir."  
  
Santana closed his eyes and nodded, "And I assume you agree you are a human?"  
  
Greensburg was taken aback, "Of course I am!"  
  
Santana, "Very well. Then I suppose that also proves that because you are a human, and not a demon, you can only see with human eyes, correct?"  
  
Greensburg nodded slowly, "That would be correct."  
  
Santana smiled, "Tell me, Mr. Greensburg, if you were incapable of seeing the perpetrator of the crime, is there any way to prove whom it was by human standards?"  
  
Greensburg thought, then answered, "I suppose there isn't."  
  
Santana looked to the Judge, "No more questions your honor."  
  
As Santana walked back to his seat, Ewing crossed his arms, "I would like to present the evidence now if that would be possible, Your Honor."  
  
Judge Mugen nodded, "You may proceed."  
  
The bailiff brought forth the evidence. It consisted of two samples of fur from Jon, one being blue and the other white, a photo of the crowd taken on the day, and a set of legal documents in a small, neat stack.  
  
Ewing approached the fur and picked it up, "Exhibit A: Twin samples of fur, one set taken from the scene of the crime and one taken from the head of the accused during his stay in the city jail. According to DNA testing done prior to this trial, the samples do match. The accused was a werewolf at the scene of the crime."  
  
He put that down and picked up the photo, "Exhibit B: A photo taken at the scene of the crime moments prior to the actual crime. The accused can clearly be seen, not only towards the front of the crowd, but also in the exact direction to which police reports I have here," he handed the report to the judge, "State that the killer darted off in."  
  
He sat that down and picked up the final piece of evidence, "Exhibit C: a coroner's report clearly stating that the marks on the body were made by a large animal, and also that the body, while harmless because it was dead on arrival, had been injected with lycanthrope venom from the claws. On that note, I rest my case."  
  
Ewing sat down and the Judge looked to Santana, "You may proceed."  
  
Santana nodded and stood, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jur-"  
  
Just then, Felicia ran in, dressed in a dressed and wearing spectacles, and approached Defense Attorney, "Mr. Santana, your evidence."  
  
Santana looked down at the tape and blushed, "Will this evidence be accepted as a possible Exhibit D, Your Honor?"  
  
The judge looked to the bailiff, "I'll have to inquire the nature of this evidence as well as the nature by which it was acquired."  
  
Felicia nodded, "The evidence was acquired from the City Jail by Officer Tasha Makabaya, and she will corroborate the story. The nature of the evidence is a tape taken by the security camera of an illegal beating of the accused by officers of the law."  
  
Ewing stood, "Objection, Your Honor. The accused's time in the city jail, or the events that occurred therein, is completely irrelevant to this case."  
  
Judge Mugen narrowed his eyes down at Ewing, "Being the judge of this courtroom, I am allowed to review the case files for all defendants, including notes for the attorneys' defense and/or prosecution. I clearly remember yours containing mention of the accused escaping from the city jail as evidence in the case. Objection overruled."  
  
Ewing sat down, and the judge nodded to Santana, "Please proceed."  
  
Santana walked to the evidence table, "Before I present the final exhibit to the jury, I would like to proceed by cross-examining the existing evidence."  
  
He looked to Exhibit A, "This evidence could have come to light by several means. It is common knowledge that wolves shed their fur, especially during hotter days of the year, which Election Day was as proven by the weather report of 90 degrees Fahrenheit for the morning and afternoon. If the accused, my client Mr. Talbain, was indeed in the form of a werewolf during or before the crime, as he is now, it is apparent he is capable of behaving like a citizen and there is no legal ban on such a transformation in the city, either in public or private areas, unless specified."  
  
His eyes fell on the photo, "Exhibit B, however, contradicts the first set of evidence entirely. This photo, as the prosecution claimed, clearly shows the defendant in his human form before the crime. According to my own police report," he handed it to the judge, "He was also in human form at the time of his arrest. Again, it is known by scholars that even werewolves capable of transforming without the aid of the full moon require more time than Mr. Talbain had to transform in the first place."  
  
Finally, he looked at the report, "This I find most interesting indeed, because it contradicts everything I was taught in theology about the werewolf. According to this analysis, a werewolf can transmit lycanthrope venom through his claws. However, once again, it is known that werewolf venom is only transmitted through the teeth and this report contains no mentions of bite marks on the body. The report is irrelevant."  
  
Santana looked to the judge, "Permission to present Exhibit D?"  
  
Judge Mugen nodded, "Permission granted, Mr. Santana."  
  
The tape was put into a courtroom VCR and played. It clearly showed exactly what Felicia had claimed it did. The crowd watched in horror, not at the beating of a darkstalker, but at the brutalities committed to another living being. It was all very clear. Talbain had not been abused as a werewolf, but as a man, and even then he had not savagely retaliated. He had only defended himself long enough to get out of there.  
  
The tape ended and a hush fell over the crowd. The jury was sent back to make their decision, but they came out before even a minute had passed. The bailiff whispered their decision to the judge, who nodded, "Based upon the evidence provided here, the City of Pasadena finds Jon Talbain innocent of the allegations presented."  
  
The gavel was slammed and Ewing's eyes went white, "WHAT!? This is madness! You can't let a murderer go! He almost let a child die! That child was my nephew and he's a beautiful little boy!"  
  
"One more word and I'll have YOU thrown into the city jail!" Judge Mugen shouted at Ewing, standing up where he had formerly sat the entire trial.  
  
Ewing was foaming at the mouth, "Oh, you can try alright, but you won't get very far once you learn the horrible truth of what a REAL darkstalker can do, not just a pansy like Talbain!" Ewing stood up and hunched over, scaled emitting from his body, which began to take on a black color as his eyes went red.  
  
A demonic, snake-like creature hissed and leaped at the judge, but was stopped in midair by a howling light. In that light, snapped free of his 'bondages' was Talbain the wolf. The demon snake spun from the impact, crashing into a wall and harming nobody but himself.  
  
The snake-like being retracted back into his human form: the form of Ewing, and lay unconscious. Talbain only stood there, eyes narrowed, as two police officers arrived and bound Ewing in chains, taking him away.  
  
The bailiff looked to the judge, "Are you alright, Your Honor?"  
  
Judge Mugen nodded, wiping sweat from his brow, "I'll be fine, but if it hadn't been for one persecuted hero and a damn good attorney, we not only would have sent the wrong man to jail, but the Mayor's real murderer would be on the streets."  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	12. Episode 12: Terror at the Twin Towers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Although this story takes place in roughly 1989, well over a decade before the tragic events of 9/11, the author dedicates this chapter to the heroic men and women who put their own lives at risk to rescue others from the wreckage of the World Trade Center in 2001.  
  
"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE TWELVE: TERROR AT THE TWIN TOWERS  
  
Talbain yawned. He wasn't used to being up this early, but Felicia had insisted they use at least some of the time and money from their vacation to hit a big mall. Talbain had asked why when she could hit the mall back home in California, and she had argued that they were in the Big Apple now so they had to do things on a grander scale. Talbain couldn't argue with that so he ended up tagging along at 6 am: opening hours.  
  
Felicia was dressed in something both comfortable and Californian: 'skater' jean shorts and a tight black T-shirt that said "KITTY FOR HIRE" on the front in white. Talbain had on something a little more sensible: black jeans and a crimson colored collared short-sleeve shirt.  
  
He thought it both nice to look at yet comfortable enough to not be a pain in the tail when he bought it to celebrate his verdict of 'innocent' by the city of Pasadena. The reparation money due him for the ordeal he had endured was more than enough for them to take a trip, and Talbain had always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty so it was off to New York, and they had dragged Aulbath along for the ride while Tasha had to work.  
  
Speaking of Aulbath, he was probably the closest to the Statue out of the three. The merman was dressed in a Hawaiian t-shirt and khaki shorts and he had whiled away a good part of the morning talking to the local fisherman, glad to disprove the rumors about the merfolk being just a myth. He had also been talking to aspiring surfers and the night before he had been to Coney Island and had his first cheese chili Coney.  
  
Talbain and Felicia had been walking around the shops for most of the morning now when their keen ears picked up on something the dull human ears around them did not: the sound of a piercing scream from high up on a high building.  
  
Talbain's eyes darted upwards as he stared down the massive Twin Towers dominating the scene and he tackled Felicia in preparation, covering her, "Get down everyone!" No sooner had he said the words when a huge, high panel of glass shattered into tiny crystalline shards that fell like missiles to the ground below.  
  
The screams rang out as several unwitting passersby were diced horribly by the downward spiraling projectiles. Talbain stood up, looking around, then up at the now visible hole in one of the higher floors of the left tower. His eyes narrowed slowly, "Felicia, please take care of these people: they need you here and now." Without another word, the gallant knight of a man assumed wolf form and sprinted inside on all fours.  
  
The inside of the building was just as he had imagined from pictures in magazines, but now with various employees running to get out. Several of them saw him and one woman screamed, "Oh God! Another one!" and cowered in a corner.  
  
Talbain was taken aback, "Look, I'm not going to hurt you but I need to know who did this. Can you speak?" The woman slowly nodded, her eyes wide with fear as Talbain stood over her.  
  
He realized with a shock how imposing he was in this form as he looked into her gaping eyes and shifted back to human form. "There, see? I'm like you", he said as calmly as he possibly could, "Now please tell me what happened so I can help."  
  
"I'll tell you what happened", a gruff man's voice cut in. Talbain turned around to see a short, stocky bearded yet bald man in work attire, sweat and dirt covering his face, "It was a monster in armor with a sword. He's killing everybody and unless you're on hell of a fighter you better get out of here before he kills you too buddy."  
  
Talbain walked up to him and smiled, "Brooklyn, right?" The man blinked, a bit startled, "Yeah, I'm from there: what of it?" Talbain's grin widened a bit with confidence, "I fought a wererat from the Bronx once. I almost broke a sweat."  
  
He assumed his wolf form and walked on up to the next level. The line had been laid and there was no going back. He would save the day or die trying now.  
  
An elevator dinged beside him as he made it to the top of the stairs, and as the people poured out of it like frightened ants he was glad he had chosen the leg-straining route: at least this way he would get to the monster while the building was standing.  
  
Thirty flights later he wasn't feeling so smart. He was starting to wish he had carried along a portable razor so he could shave off the fur for speed. People were running all around him, and frankly, if they thought they could get out that way more power to them he mused to himself.  
  
Somehow, someway, he made it to the correct level. He recognized this fact on sight (albeit blurred sight by now) when he heard maniacal laughter followed by screams and the sounds of bloods spraying from dismembered limbs.  
  
"Your yellow blood is not rich enough for the Hannya's taste", Bishamon sneered at a cowering group of businessmen, "But we are hungry and it will have to suffice."  
  
The door kicked in about then. "I'm red-blooded these days, but I hope you like your meat tough", Talbain taunted, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
Bishamon turned around to face his new opponent, "It's you! I thought I smelt you approaching this way, and now it seems I will not have to hunt you down."  
  
Talbain took a step forward, lowering his hands in an aggressive position, "That's pretty funny, the hunted claiming to be the hunter. This ends now demon samurai."  
  
Bishamon laughed at this, the face in his breastplate laughing with him, "Great fool: know you how long I have searched for thee? My hatred for events gone by knows no bounds and today I have my bloody revenge!"  
  
Felicia sang a soft hymn of healing. As the sound waves began to drift over the victims, their wounds began to fade as if they had never been.  
  
Just then, two figures stopped beside her. Both were female: heavily armed and dressed in the robes of Chinese ambassadors perhaps in the times when a Geisha was a position of honor and not simply a glorified whore. The woman on the left had blue skin and violet hair while the one on the right had pale skin and brown hair. Both had the same brown eyes, but while one's eyes were calm, the others' were wild.  
  
The blue-skinned, wild-eyed one narrowed her eyes, "Sis, you should probably hang back and help Ms. Kitty tend to the sick and wounded. I'm going in."  
  
The calm one simply nodded, "If you need me sister, you need only think of me."  
  
The blue one nodded firmly with a grunt and walked forward into the building.  
  
As Felicia began to pull the glass from some of the deeper wounds, she groaned in frustration at her ill success, "Stupid paws: they're too big for this."  
  
"Please, allow me", the calm woman bent down beside her and began to aid her.  
  
Felicia smiled, "You're an interesting face with interesting powers. I can tell."  
  
The woman returned a quaint smile, "My name is Mei-Ling, but if you wish you may refer to me as Lin-Lin for that is my true name. My sister and I earn our wages vanquishing terrible evils such as the one that now plagues New York."  
  
Felicia looked up at the hole in the tower, "My boyfriend is in there too."  
  
The woman, Mei-Ling, placed a hand upon her shoulder, "I sensed him earlier. He is strong. Together with my sister, they should be a formidable challenge."  
  
Bishamon charged headlong at Talbain, but the werewolf sweep kicked him and propelled him upward into the ceiling with a crash. The dark samurai retaliated with a lightning fast slash to his opponent's skull, narrowly dodged by Talbain.  
  
The force from his own dodge was great enough to knock him off balance. Bishamon smiled, making a bizarre gesture with his left hand over his forehead, which to a samurai would be equal to a ninja removing his mask in a fight: a death mark.  
  
As Talbain stood back up, Bishamon's smile widened, baring his jagged needle-like teeth as his eyes became a deeper red. Twin spirit flames appeared, one over each shoulder, and launched themselves at Talbain.  
  
Talbain successfully flipped to the side of one, but was struck in the jaw with the other and knocked for a loop: right out the shattered window. Now literally clinging to life on the edge of the outer structure of the tower, he attempted to pull himself up.  
  
It would have been relatively easy, but at that moment a dark figure stood over him. Bishamon stared down coldly, "Today you will do the falling." He raised his foot in the air at the knee, preparing to slam it down onto those grasping fingers.  
  
Talbain closed his eyes, waiting for the end, but there was no end. He opened his eyes to stare up at Bishamon, who now stared outward, eyes wide. Stranger yet, an incredibly huge battle-axe was lunged outward through his chest as if from within.  
  
As the evil samurai lowered to his knees, gagging, another figure walked out of the shadows behind him and offered Talbain a hand. Two brown eyes seemed to smile almost tauntingly down at the wolf, "You look like you could use a lift."  
  
As Talbain took her hand, the blue-skinned woman pulled him to safety. He seemed to be looking past her and she crossed her arms angry, "No thanks? Jeez!"  
  
"Behind you", Talbain said bluntly.  
  
The woman barely had enough time to duck the sword chop. Bishamon was back up, the axe in his middle only having halted him momentarily. She jumped into place beside Talbain, who was already stanced.  
  
"Know anything about ki manipulation?" Talbain said lowly to the woman.  
  
She grinned casually, "You kidding? Being a Chinese ghost makes me a natural."  
  
Talbain nodded, "In that case, what else can you do to stun this guy. I need about five minutes if you can manage it."  
  
The woman cracked her neck side-to-side and grinned, "One hell of a gong coming right up." She pulled a humongous Oriental gong seemingly from nowhere as well as an equally large instrument to strike it with.  
  
Talbain groaned, "You've got to be kidding."  
  
Bishamon charged forward again, but was knocked back through several walls into another room by the sonic force of the gong being played with a deafening sound. The woman turned back and grinned to him, "Don't knock it until you've tried it."  
  
Talbain simply nodded, placing his hands together as he stanced, building an attack, "Whatever it takes: I need five to prepare this technique."  
  
The woman turned and nodded, "Right: sure hope it's worth the trouble."  
  
No sooner had she turned than Bishamon leapt through the wall and aimed an intense sword strike downward at her. The woman closed her eyes and focused her ki, forcing 'willpower' spikes upward from the ground to knock the samurai to the next level: the next level of the building that is.  
  
This seemed to deter him for about three minutes while he tried to figure out how to get back down there, but the woman kept a watchful eye, knowing this wasn't over yet.  
  
Her self-assured prediction came true as Bishamon literally swung himself down through a window and into the room again. He lunged at the woman, but she took aim with one of the long, triple-clawed blade weapons she stored in her absurdly long sleeves and knocked him aside with major scratches flat against the wall.  
  
She slapped her forehead as he merely stood up, "Ok Hsien-Ko, that was lame. There has GOT to be something I can do to hold this guy a little longer."  
  
Bishamon began striding towards her, laughing maniacally, but was knocked off-balance by the sudden dive of a new contestant: the mean, green Aulbath.  
  
Aulbath stood ready, eyes narrowed, "I hope you've had your fun because it's time for you to be leaving this party."  
  
Bishamon stood up, laughing again, "I am not so easily rid of. I have been waiting to gather a sufficient number of victims so I can perform a massive technique. I will now turn the energy of your own souls against you and force your bodies to explode from within. The blood should be enough to bathe in, heheheh."  
  
Aulbath and Hsien-Ko took a step back. Aulbath looked to his friends, "Do you think maybe he is playing us for guppies?"  
  
Hsien-Ko shook her head, "No, he means to do it. Look!"  
  
At that moment, Bishamon was gathering a massive amount of soul energy around himself, laughing hysterically as he prepared for his revenge. "You thought I would be destroyed as easily as armor thrown over a cliff, but I am Bishamon, the immortal spirit of Bushido, and can never be destroyed!"  
  
"Bushido is honor, and you have no honor Hannya", a low voice rumbled from seemingly nowhere. Bishamon's eyes widened, "You! Go away fool!"  
  
"I was a fool, for letting you destroy my life", the voice continued, "But I will not go on letting you poison the future of this planet with your evil whims. Cease!"  
  
Bishamon fell to his knees once more, gripping at his helm as his body began to contort into an unstable smoke, "Nooooooo!"  
  
The armor fell empty with a clang. Talbain's hands burned with the energy in them, but he knew now that would not be necessary and lowered his hands.  
  
"Finish it!" the voice from before rumbled. A samurai's ghost in deep blue robes with long, high-tied gray hair and dark eyes stood beside Talbain.  
  
Talbain nodded silently and raised his hands, taking aim at the armor, "Dinner is served: DRAGON CANNON!!!" The blast went off, the flaming spiral line hitting target without a hitch. When the attack faded, so had the armor.  
  
Talbain turned to face the ghost, but he had vanished as well, "Is it over?"  
  
Hsien-Ko looked down at the burn stain on the ground, "Looks done to me."  
  
Talbain crossed his arms, "N-O. I'm tired."  
  
Felicia finished winding his bandages and laughed, "That's ok. You don't have to come shopping with me if you don't want to Jon."  
  
Talbain looked up, "Really?"  
  
Felicia grinned, "Yup. Found a new shopping buddy. She's a really nice oriental lady with a twin sister you might know."  
  
Talbain went pale, "One of them wouldn't happen to be blue would they?"  
  
Felicia nodded, "Yep! Can't miss Hsien-Ko's skin tone!"  
  
Talbain said nothing. He just groaned some more.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


	13. Episide 13: Dream with a Price

THE CLIMATIC FINALE TO SEASON ONE!  
  
"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."  
  
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-  
  
EPISODE THIRTEEN: DREAM WITH A PRICE  
  
Midniiiiight. Not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alooooooone. In the laaaaaamplight withered leaves collect at my feet. And the wiiiiiiind begins to blow  
  
As the spotlight began to focus on her, Felicia looked out upon her countless adoring fans, smiling dreamily. This was her night to shine. Her feline soprano voice had brought her to Broadway, and now, she was a star.  
  
She awoke and groaned, but smiled as she turned to see her other ambition in life was lying right beside her, his strong jaw stubbly from forgetting to shave yesterday.  
  
Felicia purred and softly stroked her delicate claw along his cheekbones, knowing his skin was tough enough that it wouldn't even make a dent in him, "I love you."  
  
Talbain murmured in his sleep, but nuzzled his head closer to her touch and smiled, letting her know how much he really loved her deep down. Even if she never made it to musical stardom, being in love, and loved back, was enough for anyone.  
  
It was sunrise and Felicia was taking her morning jog to warm up her legs. She couldn't figure out why Jon insisted on training alone at night when the days in California were so heavenly. He always slept through sunrise.  
  
She had her long blue hair up in a fancy do that went over her shoulders as well, her stellar appearance only detracted by her choice of clothing: a gray pullover and a pair of off-white running shorts.  
  
She was running along the coast. There were a lot of interesting folk along the Oceanside, she had to admit. Homeless beach bums, stoned out surfers, and would-be thugs with Mohawks (hey, this is the 80's!) and leather jackets just to name a few.  
  
As she was about to go under her favorite pretty bridge she saw the most interesting character of them all. He was tall, about 6 feet, and slim like a guy who had maybe had a little too much fun in his day. His face would have been young and handsome if it didn't seem to be holding the weight of ages. Felicia guessed he was maybe a thirty-something heroine addict. His skin was pale enough that he could have been on heroine, and his hair was violet while his eyes seemed sunken and glazed.  
  
Felicia had some time to kill and her kitty curiosity was getting the better of her, so she walked up to the stranger. She almost regretted it instantly: his disheveled hair and large brown coat smelled horribly of ale and god knows what else. Wincing a bit, she asked what she was thinking, "Okay, why purple?"  
  
The man, assuming that's what he was, leaned over with a wide, menacing grin, towering over her, and chuckled in a deep Aussie tone, "Why blue while we're at it?"  
  
Felicia flushed: he had a point, "Do you come here often?"  
  
The figure leaned back against the bridge, the shadows half hiding his face except for his eyes, which seemed to take on a red glow, "Me trade takes me out on tours e'lat, so lez jest sayz I get around, eh Kitty?"  
  
Felicia went blue in the face for a second, "And what exactly is your trade Sir?"  
  
The man stepped forward, now sporting a battle-axe guitar and a hilariously cheesy grin, "I play tha strings! Name's Zabel Zarock, maychance ye've hearda me?"  
  
Felicia quirked a brow, "A rock star eh?"  
  
Zabel signed her the archetypical "Metal Devil Horns" and flashed another shit-eating grin, "You've got it baby! I've played Sydney and London, but now I've got this idea I'll be playin' in Vegas. Rock opera style!"  
  
Felicia laughed merrily, "Yeah, you could play and I could sing!"  
  
Zabel leaned in beside her and grinned, "Ye sing now do ye Kitty?"  
  
Felicia nodded, "Uh huh! The name is Felicia and someday I'll light up Vegas myself with my rendition of Memory. You know, the song from Cats."  
  
The funny man plopped down on the outer railing of a bridge column and grinned, "Alright then Mizz Felicia, lez hear ya wail."  
  
Felicia nodded, taking her best posture, and closed her eyes,  
  
Every streeet lamp, seems to beat a fatalistic warning. Someone mutters, and the street lamp gutters, and soon it will be mooooorning  
  
Felicia looked up, her eyes sparkling as her face beamed with a radiant smile. She looked to the man, "Well, did you like it?"  
  
Zabel was all teary-eyed, "That wuz bea-oo-tiful. We gotta get you onstage."  
  
Felicia flushed, "I wish. I've made one cd but I haven't had the time to tour and my agent has had to let me go so I'm not getting gigs anymore."  
  
No sooner had she said it than Zabel sprang into the air from his seat, did a 180 flip in mid-air, and landed with his back turned while grinning, "I think I failed t' mention this, but I was pretty well received by the UK so I've got somethin' of a following. I could get ya a 'gig' tomorrow if yer up to it."  
  
Felicia's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!" she shrieked excitedly.  
  
Zabel's grin only widened. He had his diva now.  
  
Talbain looked at the crumpled, smelly paper, "Are you sure this is the place?"  
  
Felicia glanced to him, "Is it the address on the paper Jon?"  
  
Talbain nodded slowly, "Yeah but it doesn't look like it's been used in ages."  
  
He wasn't kidding. They now stood in front of a large office-like building that appeared to be a tad in need of repair, or so it appeared from where they stood.  
  
Just then Zabel ran up behind them, a taxi honking rudely at him for dashing across the street, "Hey Felice'! All set for tha show? Who's the guy?"  
  
Felicia gave him a sunny smile, "This is my boyfriend Jon. He ran a martial arts dojo back in England so maybe you guys have met. Jon, this is Zabel."  
  
Zabel smiled quaintly, "Your girlfriend 'as a lovely voice."  
  
Talbain nodded, eyes narrowed, "Yes, she certainly does." He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about this guy didn't smell right, and it wasn't his BO.  
  
Zabel looked to Felicia, "We should get you to the dressing room. This building may look frail, but in a few it's gonna be holdin' over two hundred souls."  
  
They walked inside together. Jon followed them through the side doors and started to follow them down a hall, but Zabel stopped him, "Sorry mate, but the dressing room's for the stars only. If ye wait in the auditorium I can promise a good seat though."  
  
Jon nodded slowly, "Oh? I'll do that."  
  
Zabel turned to follow Felicia, who was already headed down the hall, but stopped, smiling slyly over his shoulder, "Heard about your students out in the country by the way. My sympathies for the damage to the place." He kept on walking.  
  
Talbain's face was murder.  
  
Felicia sat in the back of the dressing room, brushing her hair. A gothy girl was applying make-up to her skin and a soft dye to make her fur a more vibrant white than usual. About that time, Zabel walked in, throwing off his jacket.  
  
Underneath he had on an interesting, yet vaguely familiar, outfit. It consisted of black jeans with a spiked leg cuff and a Union Jack over one leg and deep brown leather boots at the bottom. The pants were held in place at the top by a black spiked leather belt and he wore black fingerless leather gloves. Other than that he was without clothing.  
  
Zabel snapped his fingers, "Amityvilla, go help Arachnia with the girl. I want her all prettied up in five so she can open for us."  
  
A blonde girl in a kinky black leather suit stopped polishing Zabel's coat and rushed over to Felicia, "Sure thing Mr. Z."  
  
Felicia blinked as the girl did her nails. She had never even heard of this guy, but these two were making over him like he was the literal god of heavy metal. Then again, she had never been that into the heavier stuff. She stuck to opera and show tunes.  
  
Finally, after about four minutes, she was all dolled up and stood before Zabel. He clapped his hands together, "Perfect, you look like a star, and since this is your first major gig in Cali I'm guessin, lemme give you a tip from an ol' pro."  
  
Felicia would have laughed at him five minutes earlier, but that was before she saw him command respect like few artists she had ever met, "I'm listening."  
  
Zabel leaned in and whispered, "If you want to make it big, you'll have to make a lot of sacrifices. This biz ain't about talent and it ain't about livin' a dream: it's about making bread money and keepin' a fanbase at all costs, got it?"  
  
Felicia's eyes lowered, "I don't think I can sacrifice everything."  
  
Zabel was taken aback, "An' why not? You've got the voice!"  
  
Felicia looked up at him all teary eyed, "What about Jon?"  
  
Zabel smiled slowly, "Dun worry about it right now: you'll have plenty of time to think about it after tonight cuz I've booked you on a brand new tour."  
  
Felicia didn't know whether to be overjoyed or devastated.  
  
Zabel sensed her dilemma, "Theeeeere now, dun be like that Kitty. This is your dream. You wanted to be a star and now you'll be the brightest star of all. Ye think I didn't make sacrifices to get where I'm at? Come see here."  
  
Felicia followed him as he walked in front of the mirror. She barely held herself back from screaming at what she saw: a skeletal corpse had replaced Zabel's image in the mirror. It wore the same clothes as him, but it's hair was spiky and its eyes red.  
  
Zabel turned her face to his, "See? Sacrifices. Now stop crying fer God's sake, you'll make the mascara run down yer cheeks. Best of luck."  
  
It was showtime.  
  
Zabel hadn't exaggerated: the auditorium was packed. Somewhere near the front of the crowd Talbain stood waiting for the show to begin.  
  
Felicia was watching them all stand there in darkness from backstage and her nerve was faltering. Singing for a cd was a hell of a lot different than performing in front of hundreds of people live and in person.  
  
Zabel walked past her. He was quite literally dressed to kill in a satin-colored 'ringmaster' type suit with a top hat to match. He tilted the top hat down, forcing his long scraggly hair further down his neck, and grinned to the crowd.  
  
His eyes glowed redder under the shadow of the hat, "What's up all you freaks and babes!" The crowd cheered wildly, some beer spraying in the air and he was feeling more confident than ever, "Alright now, I know somma ya love the opera, and somma ya hate its guts, but tonight we got somethin' that rockers and geezers alike should dig. For her first performance in Pasadena, singing a rock opera rendition've Memory, I give you the nine- lived wonder of the world, Felicia!"  
  
Most of the crowd wasn't too sure about this so Felicia got a real silent walk-on, and the blue spotlight focused on her as she closed her eyes and began to mew the words:  
  
Meeeeeeemory. All alone in the moonliiiiiight. I can smile at the old daaaaays. I was beautiful then. I remeeeeember the time I knew what happiness waaaas. Let the memory live agaaaaaaaain  
  
The guitar was playing the accompaniment with a steady, slow drumbeat as she continued, her eyes closing tighter as she gripped the mic and sweated the words:  
  
Dayliiiiight! I must wait for the sunriiiiiiise! I must think of a new liiiiiife and I mustn't give iiiin! When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory tooooo and a new daaaaay will begin!  
  
She held the note for what seemed like an eternity before she finally had to let it all go and the music slowed to a halt. The crowd was silent for a long moment, and then erupted into thunderous cheers. It was new. It was different. It kicked ass.  
  
That night after the show, Felicia and Zabel sat in the dressing room. Zabel was counting up the money when Felicia slowly stood up and walked to the door.  
  
"Where ya goin? We've got practice tonight Felicia", Zabel reminded her.  
  
Felicia turned around, her eyes stained with tears, "No, we don't Zabel. I've thought about what you said and I guess I'm just not ready for this. Goodbye."  
  
Zabel's eyes burned with rage as he leapt up from where he sat, tackling her and pinning her against a wall, his foul breath down her neck, "You listen to me Kit Kat: I didn't just set you up so you could live out some girlish fantasy. I upheld my end of a DEAL, and now you'll uphold your end, got it?"  
  
A sharp hand snatched Zabel by the neck and threw him across the room, crashing him against a mirror and shattering him through it.  
  
Talbain narrowed his eyes, "If it's not on paper it's not even legal."  
  
Zabel slowly pulled himself to his feet, "You again. Didn't you learn anything when I had yer ass trapped six feet under an' there wuz nothin' ya could do about it?"  
  
Talbain stanced, "Yeah, you had the home field advantage that time bony. This go around, I'm gonna rend you limb from disgusting limb until you're nothing but a 'shell' of your former self for what I just saw you do to my girl."  
  
Zabel cracked his knuckles, "A'ight then 'furry', lez see if ya can."  
  
A shatter of glass sounded as two hulking fighters hurled each other through a window into the streets outside. Talbain stood up, now a werewolf. Zabel stood up, now the demonic ghoul known as Lord Raptor. Both charged each other with a shout.  
  
At the moment of pre-impact, Raptor randomly slid into a kick to his opponent's knee, "Psyche! Heheheh!" The wolf was on his back and Raptor sprinted into the nearest building to await his prey: the 12th Street Mall.  
  
Talbain ran in, snarling up a storm, "GET OUT HERE!"  
  
A maniacal laughter echoed through the empty mall, which resembled a scene from Dawn of the Dead, "Aincha never played hide and seek Fur-ass? Tell ya what, I'll make the game one step easier and count for you. One."  
  
Talbain's lupine ears perked as he heard a pattering of feet from in front of the Gizmos Galore shop on the second floor.  
  
"Two."  
  
As he ran up the escalator it turned on and started going down. What rotten luck! Good thing people are faster than slow-moving conveyor belts. He made it to the top.  
  
"Three."  
  
He skidded to a stop in front of the store and looked around, his eyes prying into the darkest corners for any strange movement.  
  
"Four."  
  
Just then he heard a buzzing. It wasn't coming from around him though. Somehow, the electric buzzing was coming from under the floor!  
  
"FIVE!"  
  
The buzzsaw blade dove upward through the ground, digging into Talbain's hind paw and severely wounding it. He staggered back and sunk to one knee, "Damn you."  
  
Raptor dove up next, saw in hand, and landed in front of his victim with a maniacal grin, "That'd be a bit redundant, now wouldn't it mate?"  
  
In his arrogance, Raptor missed a key movement on Talbain's part: during his 'fall' he had purposely positioned himself so that Raptor was between his body and the rail around the balcony that was the edge of the second level of the mall.  
  
"Ready or not, you stupid son of a bitch", Talbain grinned, hurling himself at Raptor in a Beast Cannon and knocking him over the rail.  
  
Talbain was leaned against the rail and breathing hard, his eyes closed as he tried to compensate for the blood he had just lost.  
  
Felicia ran into the mall and screamed, "Jon watch out!"  
  
Talbain looked in the direction she was pointing to see Raptor 'climbing' the balcony with his arms alone. Who knew such frail looking limbs had so much power.  
  
The skeletal creep hurled himself from the balcony like an ape on steroids and clung to a grip in the ceiling, then flung himself so he was standing behind Talbain.  
  
Talbain turned, slowly stancing, "Not over yet."  
  
Felicia had seen enough. She sprang from her hind legs in an inhuman jump onto the balcony itself, landing in a crouch between the two fighters and standing. She looked to Zabel and glared, "You're not as bad as you think you, Zabel Zarock."  
  
Raptor blinked, "Beg yer pardon?"  
  
Felicia's face remained tough but understanding, "You puff yourself up into this ugly monster so people will be afraid of you, but I'm not intimidated. I can still see that man who I sang to under the bridge. You know, you can talk all you want about giving everything for a goal in life, but while you've given away your body, you still have a soul somewhere in there and it will take more than some bad choices to destroy that."  
  
Talbain tried to reach out for her, "Felicia, stop: he's just a raging monster."  
  
Felicia shook her head and walked forward, "I don't believe that. I believe he's a man with a nasty past and an even nastier future if he doesn't clean up his act. Zabel Zarock, it's time to wake up!" With that, she slapped him across the face.  
  
She slowly turned to Talbain and walked over, holding him up. As a tear fell down her face, she closed her eyes and let her voice pour over him:  
  
Toooouch me. It's so easy to leeeeeave me. All alone with the meeeeemory of my days in the suuuun. If you touch me you'll understand what happiness iiiiiiis. Look, a new daaaaay has beguuuuun  
  
Talbain stood, holding her. His foot had healed completely.  
  
Zabel, his head turned to the side, was too stunned to move. It wasn't the pain from the slap that was holding him back: it was the sting of those words. What did she mean? What sort of future was there for a guy like him anyway? His mind swimming with questions, he gripped at his head and screamed, disappearing in a shower of sparks, not dying, but not to be seen again for some time.  
  
Talbain looked to her, "You're going to make it big some day with a voice like that. You know that right Felicia?"  
  
Felicia just smiled: finally, some constructive criticism.  
  
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITEEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM 


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